


Love you Lo-Lo

by MagicQuill42



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Car Accidents, Coma, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 07:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16908750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicQuill42/pseuds/MagicQuill42
Summary: After being in a coma for two years Logan Articunio wakes up with no memory of the past five years. Or of the three men who call themselves his fiances.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by @magnificentme513. Enjoy, I totally didn’t cry while writing this.

Patton sighed as he walked into Logan’s room, a vain attempt to clear his gloomy thoughts. He stopped to rustle the man’s hair before settling into a chair next to the bed.

He’d asked over and over again if he could bring a more comfortable seat into the ward, but he’d been denied. Luckily, there wasn’t anything against moving the chairs already in there. Patton had long ago scooted the armchair to be nearly flush to the side of the bed. No one had moved it. 

“Hey Lo.” He whispered. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was really bad today.”

He reached over and gently grasped the other man’s hand.

“I mean, like, really bad.” He continued. “It took me twenty minutes to get from Downton to twenty-seven if you can believe it! Makes me miss you. I remember the road trips we used to take.”

He felt his eyes mist over. “The driving was horrible but the squabbles over seating were almost worse, even if it was a little endearing. It wasn’t until you made that chart that everything started going smoothly. You made us rotate and gave every seat a job to do. The driver drove, the front passenger got to choose the music, the one behind them got to choose temperature, and the one behind the driver had to take at least one nap.”

He laughed. “It certainly cut down the complaining. At least from everyone else. Roman wouldn’t stop teasing you guys about your music, though. I remember the great Bach versus Disney versus MCR debate. It went on for weeks! It didn’t stop until I sat you all down for a movie marathon. And you turned to me after and said…”

Patton swallowed hard, nearly choking on his own tears.

“You said ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you, Pat.’ And then you kissed me.

“And then Roman got grumpy so you kissed him too and you kissed Virgil just for good measure and oh my word I miss you.”

Patton clasped his other hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the oncoming tears.

“‘M sorry.” He said. “Just got emotional for a sec. Don’t you worry about it though. You focus on getting better, okay?”

He smiled at Logan, shooing away the desire for his still face to smile back.

“I’ll bring you more flowers tomorrow, okay? Those are looking a little dry. I was thinking sunflowers, but you hate those, huh? Maybe I’ll drag Ro to the shop with me and he can pick ‘em out!”

He giggled.

“I’ll bring him either way. Both of them, actually. It’ll be Saturday so they can’t make excuses. They…”

He hesitated. “…they miss you. I know they do. But it’s weird. I think they miss you so much that they’d rather remember you as you were before all this. At least Roman would. I think Vee’s just scared. Scared that if he comes in here it makes it all real. Scared we’re gonna… Well anyway. I’ll drag them if I have to. Promise.”

He stood and brushed a gentle kiss to the other man’s temple. He squashed the part of him that still felt disappointed when he didn’t respond and instead squeezed his hand gently.

“We may miss you, Lo. But I don’t want you worrying, okay? You take your time. You heal. We’ll be here when you get back.”

He smiled again.

“Love you, Lo-Lo. See you soon.”

He gathered his things and headed out, already forming plans for the next day.

And completely missing the twitch of the other man’s face, right where he’d been kissed.

****

The next day Patton cheerfully dragged his other two fiancées into the ward. He knew they’d be happy they’d visited once Logan woke up, and that they’d regret it if they hadn’t. All in all, a good call on his part, he thought.

Another good call was having Virgil pick the flowers instead of Roman. It wasn’t that Roman didn’t have taste, per say. Rather his taste tended to be… extravagant.

After denying the fourth bouquet, Virgil had picked out a small cluster of dark blue roses. Simple, understated, and classy, while making the intent clear. Just like Logan. Perfect.

Virgil was currently clutching the bouquet as he got dragged along, which Roman was pouting over. Patton only giggled at them though.

He had a good feeling about today. And he wasn’t in the mind to let a few bounts of banter blunder his bluster.

He laughed inwardly at the alliteration and mentally added it to the list of things to share once Logan woke up.

It was extensive.

All of a sudden, Patton stopped dead in his tracks, worrying the loved ones by his side.

“Pat? What’s wrong?” Virgil asked.

Patton swallowed and pointed to the cluster of doctors outside room 236.

Logan’s room.

Virgil’s eyes widened and he clasped Patton’s hand tightly. Roman squeezes the other briefly before flashing them a tight smile. He let them go and stride over to a nearby doctor, who looked a little more idle than the others.

Patton watched as the two talked fervently. Slowly, a smile grew on Roman’s face and Patton suddenly found it very hard to breathe. No. No way.

Roman’s smile turned into a radiant beam and something in Patton’s chest caved. He’d missed that smile. He hadn’t seen it since the accident and the fact that he was seeing it now could only mean one thing.

Roman raced towards them. He gathered Patton up into his arms and swung him around.

“He’s awake!” Roman crowed. “Woke up at ten fifteen this morning! The nurse said he was doing a check up when his eyes just popped open and he asked where he was can you believe it?”

Patton was laughing. Or crying. Both, probably.

Logan was awake. Logan was back! Logan could y’all and hold them and kiss them and oh gosh he was back. His brilliant mind and humongous heart and his eyes that somehow let you see both of those at once.

Roman pressed a hard, quick kiss to Patton’s lips before setting him down and twirling Virgil around the ward. Patton was definitely laughing now, though it was more sheer giddiness than anything else.

Virgil’s smile was back too. Bigger and bolder than Patton had seen it in ages.

Patton beamed at them, soaking in this moment, trying to memorize it to tell and retell until they were all in rocking chairs.

After a few more twirls and a lot more kisses, they settled enough for a doctor to approach them. Her face was grim and it caused something heavy to settle in Patton’s stomach.

“I take it you’re the family of Mr. Articuno?” She asked.

Patton nodded and offered her a smile.

“Fiancées.” Virgil said weakly.

Patton rubbed circles into his back, hoping to soothe the oncoming anxiety.

The doctor offered them a small smile.

“Well I have good news and bad news.” She said. “The good news is that Mr. Articuno is awake and appears to have made a mostly full recovery.”

“Mostly?” Roman asked. “What’s the mostly?”

The doctor sighed. “That’s the bad news. There seems to be gaps in his memory. He doesn’t remember what he was doing the day of the accident, or anything in the month prior. Without being close to him we can’t know how far back this gap expands, which we’re hoping you can help with.”

Patton nodded fervently. “Of course, anything!”

He started to stand but the doctor held up a hand, stilling him.

“His memory can be healed, but… while the enthusiasm is understandable I would advise a bit of caution. It’s going to take a lot of time and a lot of patience to get him back on track.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect,” Virgil said. “We’ve been waiting two years already. We’re more than ready to wait another ten if that’s what it’ll take for him to come back to us.”

A stunned look passed behind her eyes before she offered them and gentle smile.

“Alright then, follow me.”

She led them into the room and Patton felt his heart nearly burst.

Logan was sitting up. He was hooked to machines and his legs were lying still under the covers but he was sitting up. His hair was missed from the blankets but it was clear he’d run his hands through it, trying to get it flat and professional the way he always liked it and the way only he could ever manage. His deep blue eyes were looking away from them, out the window and they were open open open.

He brushed a hand against his eyes, stubbornly trying not to cry again.

The doctor knocked gently on the doorframe.

“Mr. Articuno? You have some visitors.”

Logan’s head turned and Patton felt his grin grow. He finally understood the phrase “stars in their eyes” because he felt like every part of him was shining with happiness, so bright that he would blind anyone else who looked at him. Anyone who wasn’t Logan.

Logan who’s eyebrows furrowed. Logan who’s mouth quirked downwards. Logan who’s lips formed three words that shattered everything.

“Who are they?”


	2. Chapter 2

Logan Articuno honestly didn’t know what was going on. And he hated it. There was nothing he harbored more ill-will towards than not knowing about his surroundings. Of course, that would imply that he had feelings with which to hate, and he’d been reliably informed he did not.

Instead, then, he choose to gather information about his surroundings in the hopes of filling the gaps between the now he remembered and what seemed to be the present.

The most obvious conclusion: he was in the hospital. Therefore whatever had caused this memory lapse was likely a cranial injury of some kind. Possibly an accident, as he doubted he would have done such a thing on purpose.

A coma, he’d been informed later. He’d been comatose and he was lucky he got off as well as he was.

The next most obvious conjecture was that he had lost quite a bit of time. Regardless of how long he’d been in a coma relative to how much of his memory he’d lost, it was clear he was… not in college anymore.

He was malnourished, but that was to be expected. But his body was not quite in the same shape as it had been when he last remembered. He seemed… larger almost. Definitely older. His hands felt rough and he could see a few scars he did not recall having prior to his memory loss. Only some of which he gathered were from his “accident.”

He’d asked for the date and a nurse had tentatively given him the requested string of numbers.

3/19/2018.

Five years since 2013.

Five years since he’d been a sophomore in college.

Five years since the last thing he remembered.

He was pondering this when he heard a gentle knock on the room- his room’s door frame.

“Mr. Articuno?” A doctor said gently. “You have some visitors.”

Logan turned, making a mental note to learn that doctor’s name.

He blinked at the men in the doorway. If he were being honest, he’d been half expecting his parents. Certainly, it would’ve been a quick response time for them, but he couldn’t rule out that they may have been on their way here previously. Visiting out of some obligation to their own blood.

He also wouldn’t have been surprised to see Damien. While the other man left a foul taste in his throat, he was the closest thing to a friend Logan had ever had.

The three in the doorway however were entirely foreign.

Logan studied them a moment, trying to understand who they might be to him. They were clinging to each other, arms wrapped tightly as if they feared letting go. The one on the far left was watching him warily through purple-tinted bangs, seemingly scared of something Logan might do. Or perhaps, he reflected, something he might not do.The man on the right was smiling gently, hopefully almost, though Logan couldn’t imagine what he was hopeful for. He stared a moment longer before uncomfortably shifting his attention to the man in the middle.The man who’s honey-brown eyes were staring at him as if he’d just hung all the stars in the sky. The man who’s rosy lips were curved upwards in a fragile smile that looked oh-so delicate.

He shifted his gaze back, looking at the other two with this new information in mind. Sure enough, he was met with not one, but two similar gazes, though not quite as intense as the middle-man’s had been.

The eyes on the left seemed tentative, sure, but there was an adoration there he hadn’t noticed at first glance. They were dark, black, and seemed to be worrying over every inch of the room before him.

The pair on the right were fervent. Vibrant green and hopeful. They looked at him with the baited breath he didn’t know eyes could convey.

They clearly felt something for him and Logan… was of two minds.

One mind shuddered and recoiled from their expressions. Feelings, the bane of his existence since before he could remember. They were unpredictable, unwieldy, and wild. Utterly contemptible. If the world were perfect, everyone would be like him and set emotion aside so as to reach peak efficiency.

The other mind was small and so quiet he barely registered it. He didn’t know these people. He had no idea who these men were.

But he wanted to.

He felt his head list to the side as he asked, addressing the doctor so that he might find their positions in his life, rather than directly ask them and cause an upset.

“Who are they?”

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say. The middle man’s face crumpled and fresh tears appeared on his cheeks. The fragile hope of the left’s seem to shatter and the one on the right’s all but evaporated.

The doctor gave him a smile that was somehow sad, understanding, tight, and pitying all at once. He disliked it immediately.

“If you don’t remember it might be best for them do introduce themselves.” She said. “I don’t want to cause undue stress.”

Logan nodded his understanding and the doctor continued.

“I’ll leave you all alone, then. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”

Logan nodded again and the man on the right shot her a grateful-looking smile. He gently squeezed the middle man’s shoulders as she walked off, and rubbed a small circle into his back.

This seemed to be all the incentive the man needed as he took a deep shuddering breath, wiped his eyes, and marched forewords, the other two following close behind.

The man lowered into a chair that looked far closer than it should have been and smiled up at him.

“Hello, Logan.” He chirped. “It’s good to see you awake again.”

Logan nodded stiffly, suddenly wary of this… unknown factor that had seated itself next to him.

“Yes I would imagine it would be. Given the circumstances.” He said carefully.

The man’s smile wavered momentarily, but it didn’t diminish.

“I don’t suppose…” he hesitated. “Does the name Patton ring any bells?”

Logan shook his head slowly. No, he didn’t know anyone named Patton, not that he could recall.

The man’s face fell a little. “Okay, that’s okay. How about Roman?”

Logan shook his head again and fixed his eyes on the blankets in front of him. No Romans either. Aside from the famous empire of course. Somehow he doubted that’s what the men wanted, though.

“Virgil?”

Logan started to shake his head again before he remembered something. It was faint, more faint than a woman in the Victorian era, but it was there.

He narrowed his eyes. “I think… I believe there was someone in my psychology class with that name. They sat in the back, however, so I cannot say for certain if it is the same Virgil you are asking after.”

The man with purple hair shook his head. “No that’s… that was me. We had psych together fourth semester. And soc’ the semester after.”

Logan nodded, absorbing the information even if he had no recollection of what the man was talking about. At the very least he had learned their names.

Virgil had claimed the last name as his own, and Patton had likely asked after his own name first, which meant that the remaining name, Roman, belonged to the remaining man.

Logan smiled inwardly. At least his deductive reasoning seemed undamaged.

He looked up at the other men, twisting his hands in the sheets.

“You will have to forgive me.” He said. “I’ve been trying but I can’t seem to recall anything from beyond five years ago. I… it would seem a great deal has transpired since then and it is likely I will err.”

Patton (he hoped) smiled softly. “It’s alright, Lo… Logan. We’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

He reached for Logan’s hand, but Logan recoiled it. He realized his misstep a moment later as pain flashed through the other man’s eyes.

“I… I apologize.” He said, cursing the stammer. “I just… I have no idea who you are at the moment and as such it may take me some time to get acclimated to… touching.”

Patton smiled again, though his eyes glistened. “That’s alright. You… you take your time.”

“Heaven knows we’ve grown used to waiting.” Roman (Roman?) said quietly.

Logan felt his brows furrow. If they’d grown used to waiting then they’d likely known him for some time before whatever had caused his injury. Judging by their reactions they’d obviously been close as well. But for the life of him Logan couldn’t pin down the exact relationship.

He swallowed, throat suddenly going dry.

“Would you… I mean… I have many questions, as I’m sure you can guess. But at the moment two of them seem most important. The first is exactly how long have I been comatose as I would like some frame of reference for the amount I cannot remember. The second is… more delicate. I would like to know my… relation to all of you. Not, perhaps, the entire story, but the basic nature of our relationships will momentarily suffice.”

Roman muttered something under his breath and Patton giggled wetly. Logan fought the heat In his cheeks.

Virgil, meanwhile raised his head until his dark eyes were fixed directly on Logan’s.

“You’ve been asleep for just over two years.” He answered. “You got in an accident on February third, a day before…”

He hesitated.

“Yes?” Logan pressed.

Virgil’s gaze dropped. Patton’s followed and the small man seemed to be trying very hard not to cry.

Roman was the only one looking at him now, even if there was an ocean of sorrow in his eyes.

“The day before our wedding.” Roman said, an air of strange finality in his voice.

Logan blinked. He blinked again.

“Your wedding?” He asked.

Roman shook his head. “Our wedding.”

Logan blinked again. “Oh. Was I to play a role? I apologize if you had to rearrange the event on my behalf.”

Roman shook his head again, more disbelief in his expression.

“No, Logan. Our wedding. All of us. In which the role you play is groom number four. Act one; scene zero.”

Logan blinked again, brain not really comprehending what he was hearing.

“But… I’m not gay.”

Virgil snorted. “Not to overload you, but you’re the third gayest guy I’ve ever dated. The first being Sir Sing-a-lot over there, and the second being He-Who-Shall-Go-Unnamed.”

Roman made an offended noise. “Excuse you, Logan is twice as gay as that snake-face ever was!”

Logan blinked again. “No I’m not. I’ve never considered a relationship. Not with men or with women.”

In order to develop feelings for someone you had to have feelings in the first place and that was one thing Logan avoided at all costs. Not to say that those who were aromatic lacked in feelings. Just that Logan himself did. Always had.

Feelings clouded your judgement and made it harder to see the cold, hard facts. It was detestable in Logan’s eyes, even if his stance had caused him a number of callous nicknames.

“I’m not gay. I’m sorry.”

He watched, waiting for Patton’s face to crumple again. Instead, though his eyes fixed on him with a strange expression. It was odd, a mixture of dawning understanding and-

It looked like the doctor’s face when he first asked who they were. The sad understanding as something in them apologized for what had happened. An understanding sort of pity that he suddenly decided he loathed.

“It’s alright, Logan.” Patton said, unaware of the hatred Logan had for his expression. “I think… I think I understand where you’re coming from.”

No you don’t, something in him said. You couldn’t possibly understand the vast ocean of uncomprehending I find myself kneeling in front of.

He didn’t say it though. He settled on a nod instead.

Patton stood suddenly. “I think that’s enough to process for today. I mean we have you a lotta information already.”

Logan frowned. There was still a lot more he felt he needed to know. Where were his parents, for example. Did he finish with his degree? Where did he live now? Was that cancelled because he’d been comatose?

And that wasn’t even touching questions regarding his apparent engagement. Or was it engagements? It was all one wedding so it might be engagement but it was to three people, bizarrely, so would that make it engagements?

Logan felt like his head was cracking open. Maybe Patton had a point after all about that being enough for the day.

Patton smiled gently. “Don’t worry. I can’t come tomorrow, but I’ll send these two, okay? You can ask them all the questions you want.”

Logan nodded tentatively. “That sounds like an understandable compromise.”

Patton’s smile widened. “Okie dokie then. See you soon, Lo-Lo.”

Logan felt his face wrinkle in displeasure, luckily Patton was already walking out and missed the expression.

Lo-Lo? Exactly who had he become in those missing three years that would allow such a… cutesy nickname? His own mother hadn’t called him pet names and he had been perfectly fine with it.

Roman, at this point, had already turned to follow Patton, but Virgil caught sight of his face and cocked an eyebrow.

Logan schooled his expression into his usual indifference.

“Lo-Lo?” He asked, trying not to sound disgusted.

Virgil snorted. “If that’s what’s worrying you we’ve got a long way to go.”

“Understood, But… Lo-Lo?”

Virgil’s lips quirked upwards, a facsimile of a smile, wherein it didn’t quite seem to finish smiling.

“Yeah. You hated it for about a year before too. You’d roll your eyes everytime he said it. Eventually, though you just kinda gave up. Dunno if you liked it or not though. It was hard to say.”

Logan nodded. “That is… satisfactory. I was beginning to think the me of two years ago had lost his mind.”

Virgil snorted again and moved to leave. He paused as he reached the doorway and backtracked. Logan watched as he rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled to the other side of his bed.

Virgil flushed and grasped the dead flowers Logan had noted earlier, lifting them from their vase. After dumping them into the trash he unceremoniously replaced them with a bouquet of small dark blue roses. He spent a moment arranging them before awkwardly shuffling back to the door.

“See you soon, Lo.”

Logan returned the farewell and resumed looking out his window. Soon a doctor would come in and perform a test to determine how much he’d healed in this area or that criteria. Tomorrow there would be even more tests. Tomorrow those men and their strange answers would return and he would be left here after they were gone, more confused than when he started.

Their answers to his questions, the image of him they seemed to have in their mind, it didn’t match with the self he had forged through hell and high water. He didn’t know how much a person could change in three years but it would appear the answer was a lot in regards to himself.

He didn’t feel like their fiancé. He didn’t feel like he’d been a day away from marrying them before all this. He didn’t feel anything, really. He never had. He didn’t feel.

Logan took a deep breath. Saying it was a lot to process felt like an understatement. His head felt as though it could split open from trying to comprehend it all.

Hopefully, tomorrow would bring more answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evidently, yes I will give in to my impulses. Enjoy this six hours earlier than originally intended as I continue to try to figure out what my queue is doing

The ride home was quiet. Virgil could practically feel the tension in the air as they all mentally went over the conversation. The first conversation they’d had with Logan in two years. It… hadn’t gone well.

Virgil exhaled forcefully and tried to imagine it was a knife that cut through the air, slicing the tension in half.

Patton caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled. “C’mon now, kiddos let’s focus on the positives!”

What positives, an ugly part of him asked. The love of our lives has no idea who we are and seems to have regressed to a time before his therapy which means his mental health is probably right back to where it was when we first met him which is to say bad.

Virgil bit his tongue. “It doesn’t feel like there’s a lot of positives, Pat.”

Patton’s face fell slightly, only to brighten again an instant later.

“Well he’s awake! That’s a big ol plus sign!”

“Yes, but he has no recollection of who we are.” Roman said, hands tightening on the wheel. “It is hardly an ideal situation.”

“No, but I didn’t say it was.” Patton said firmly. “I said he was awake.”

Virgil mentally chided himself. Of course that was positive. Lo was awake. He didn’t remember but he was awake and that was progress and it was better than nothing at all at the very least.

He was awake. He would get better. It was selfish of him to regard this as a bad thing.

Silence reigned again until Roman’s mouth suddenly quirked upwards.

“If we’re listing positives,” he said. “Did you see his face when we told him we were engaged? Classic “Windows-Error-Logan.””

He laughed and Virgil smirked.

“I have to admit, it was nice to see that again.” he paused. “Although you probably could’ve done without the ‘english, Lo’ comment. It’s not like he’s in on the joke anymore. He probably thought you were being mean.”

Roman winced. “I didn’t mean to be mean. It just sort of… slipped out. I was so happy to see him again and so frustrated that he doesn’t remember… Once he started rambling it was all I could think to say.”

Patton patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Ro. It… we’re all gonna have to adjust.”

Virgil snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

Patton shot him a look and he recoiled.

“We’ll adjust.” Patton said firmly. “Dr. Camati said it would be a bit before he could come home, so that gives us time to prep the house. Ro I’ll need you to dust around a bit and maybe pick up his room?”

Roman nodded.

Patton smiled. “Vee, if you could shoot Emile a message about setting up some appointments? I wanna get him some help as soon as possible.”

Virgil saluted and turned to his phone. He shot his therapist-turned-friend a quick text and shoved the device in his pocket.

Emile Picani was a great man and superior therapist, but he was notorious for replying to messages three hours after they’d been sent. It was something he’d had to get used to, but in the end it been worth it. Especially after three batches of apology cookies to make up for bringing up bad memories.

Bad memories…

Virgil frowned as something occurred to him.

“Guys… do his parents know yet?”

Tension returned to the air as the men looked to one another nervously. No one wanted to answer. No one wanted to know the answer.

“Maybe the hospital called them?” Patton suggested.

“No, we showed up before they would’ve had a chance.” Roman said. “They probably assume we will do it, if they don’t think we already have.”

Virgil swallowed hard. “Sorry for bringing it up, I just-”

“Hey, nononono.” Patton reached back and grabbed his hand. “It’s good that you did. If we don’t tell them it’ll only make things worse.”

Virgil squeezed his hand and attempted a smile. It felt more like a grimace, but it seemed to satisfy Patton all the same. Patton smiled back briefly before his brow furrowed again.

“That said… who wants to do it?”

Virgil shuddered at the idea. Logan’s parents hated all of them. They had too much energy for Victoria and they were too unpredictable for Everest. Not that either of those were the real reason they hated them, but they were the reasons they kept listing. Even if they were fooling exactly no one.

“I’ll do it.” he said hesitantly. “They think I’m the least annoying so it would make sense if I’m the one who calls them.”

Patton squeezed his hand, as much of a hug as he could manage when separated by a seat.

“You don’t have to Vee…” He said.

“No, but I want to.” He said. “They need to know. I’m just the best option to do so.”

Even if he really, really didn’t want to.

****

Patton stopped outside the door of their apartment. The other two paused as he turned to face them.

“You know what?” He said. “Time for a WWLS session.”

Virgil smirked. “We could just ask him.”

Patton shook his head and unlocked the door.

“De-feets the purpose.” He said, kicking off his shoes.

“I’ll get the whiteboard.” Roman said, heading down the hall. “How many markers?”

“Just one. Maybe two, but no more than that.” Patton said.

Virgil settled on the couch, slowly wrapping his arms around Patton until the smaller man was resting in his lap. Which made the springing-back-up he did when Roman came back quite painful.

Patton shot him an apologetic glance as he took the large, wheeled whiteboard, markers, and eraser from Roman. Virgil must have been pouting because Roman settled in next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, threading their free hands together.

Virgil suppressed a smile and snuggled in closer before looking back to Patton.

The remaining member of their quartet-turned-trio had drawn a large line down the center of the whiteboard and labeled he two sections “pros” and “cons.” He grinned at them and folded his hands behind his back in what Virgil had come to know as his best Logan impression.

The WWLS sessions had started shortly after the accident. When Roman, trying to calm Virgil down from a panic attack, had frantically asked him what Logan would say about his self-loathing thoughts. Virgil’s answer had been self-deprecating and Roman had scoffed saying that didn’t sound like Logan at all.

He did an impression of their (at the time) comatose boyfriend and listed things Virgil was good at, objectively. It was far from a perfect imitation, but it had made him laugh. Shortly after, Patton had had a breakdown of his own and Virgil responded with the same question and imitation game. After awhile it became their own, private exercise in rational thinking, and a small way of keeping Logan with them.

The whiteboard came later, to help with listing things. Logan may have been able to keep track of it all mentally, but the rest of them needed a visual aid.

“Okay! Time to list the good stuff and the bad stuff so we can get an objective opinion of the situation.” Patton said, still beaming but clearly trying to pretend he was Logan. “What’s something good about Logan waking up, and what’s something bad?”

“Well he’s not in a coma,” Roman offered. “That’s got to be a pro.”

Patton’s smile widened and he put “not in coma” under the pros.

“But he doesn’t remember us.” Virgil said, grimacing as Patton’s face fell. “If that’s not a con, i don’t know what is.”

The room was quiet as Patton scribbled “memory loss” under the cons. They stared at the words, and Virgil felt the weight they carried almost as heavily as when they were in the ward.

Patton tapped his chin with the marker before writing “error face” under the pros. Roman laughed at that and Virgil let himself chuckle.

“If we write things like that we’ll just end up listing what we love about him.” Virgil said.

Patton huffed. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“I think it’s something we should do,” said Roman. “After all, this is a sort of second opportunity to court him. It could only be good to give him a list of why we love him.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Maybe. But let’s give Specs some time to get used to everything again, first. I mean, for all he knows, he just found out he was gay.”

Roman grumbled, but agreed. When they looked back Patton had scrawled “2nd chance to court” under pros. He clapped his hands loudly as he whirled back to face them.

“Okay! So far that’s one for cons and three for pros! We’re doing great so far, guys!”

Virgil grunted. “Not quite. You forgot to put “didn’t know he was gay” under cons. The goal here is to be objective, not make ourselves feel better.”

Patton pouted but put it on the board nonetheless.

Roman smirked. “Making ourselves feel better is the What Would Patton Say session for later.”

Virgil knew it was just a ploy to get Patton’s smile back, but it did the trick. Patton giggled and raced across the room to give Roman a squishy kiss before running back to the board.

“WWPS sessions involve cookie baking and rom-com watching so you two better clear your evening.” He said, still giggling.

“Done.” Virgil and Roman said in unison.

Even if they’d had anything planned, neither would hesitate to cancel a Patton-ted cheering-up. Especially after a day like this one.

“Ooh! Can we throw in a Disney movie and make it a WWRS too?” Roman asked.

Virgil snorted. “No, that’s still a WWPS. A WWRS is looking in the mirror and stroking your ego.”

Roman spluttered, making offended noises as he tried to defend himself.

“It’s called self-love!” he decreed finally.

Virgil nudged his knee playfully. “Nah, it’s just a big head.”

Roman pouted. “Well what would a WWVS session consist of, pray tell?”

Virgil shrugged. “Probably telling everyone how amazing they are and that I low-key don’t deserve them.”

Patton cannonballed into his stomach, and Virgil yelped at the sudden impact. He felt Patton’s arms wrap around him, hands clinging to his shirt. He gingerly wrapped his own arms around the small man.

“What have we said about mean thoughts about yourself, Virgil?” Patton demanded, voice muffled by the folds of Virgil’s stomach. “You are perfect and special just the way you are and we all wouldn’t change a single thing about you also we love you.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and started stroking Patton’s hair.

“‘M sorry, Pat. Old habits are the hardest things to kill. Right up there with dinosaurs.”

Patton made a frustrated noise and burrowed further into Virgil’s abdomen.

“You moving anytime soon?” Roman asked.

Patton said something in reply, was was too deep into Virgil to be coherent. Probably along the lines of “I’m not moving until the hate is loved out of him,” knowing Patton.

Roman smiled gently. “I guess I’ll take over being ‘Logan’ then.”

He he pressed a kiss to Virgil’s temple and crossed to the whiteboard and looked back at them before writing ‘has to build back to cuddle sessions’ under the cons.

They continued like that for the rest of the afternoon and spent the evening baking cookies and watching movies as promised before passing out on the couch.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you ordered the fluff special with angst on the side? What size exposition? Medium? Okay, that’ll be 80 teardrops. Yeah you can pay with nice tags, we like reading ‘em here. Thank you for ordering at QuillFics! Come again. I have weird humor I’m sorry.

The hospital was revoltingly dull. If Logan wasn’t being prodded by people every few seconds he was spending his time counting the seconds because he had positively nothing else to do.

The included television did not count. All that it played was the news and a few children’s channels that were positively droll. He could physically feel his brain cells dying as he watched either one, so he settled for hour long staring contests with his ceiling.

It was during one of these contests that he heard a knock on the door. Turning, he saw one of the men from yesterday standing in the doorway. He had several plastic bags hanging off his arms and his eyes were flitting from Logan to the floor. He shuffled awkwardly.

“Um, I came for a visit?” The man cringed, likely aware of how much it sounded like a question.

Logan blinked, suddenly realizing the other man was asking permission.

“Oh, yes of course.” he said. “Do come in.”

The man gave him a grateful smile and entered. He crossed the room and dropped into the chair, setting the bags on the ground next to him.

“Are you alone today?” Logan asked.

The other man nodded. “Yeah. Patton had work and Roman got called to the theater for some big emergency so he dropped me off.”

Logan felt his nose wrinkle at the mention of theater. “Ah, so one of my supposed fiancees is engaged in a profession of professional make believe. Splendid.”

The man, who Logan now gathered must be Virgil, snorted.

“Believe me,” he said. “You two have argued about that almost as long as I’ve known you.”

Logan felt his lips quirk upward. “It is good to know I am not entirely changed, then.”

Virgil smiled softly before sitting bolt upright.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot.”

He rooted through the bags before withdrawing several large books and a plate piled high with what looked like cookies. Virgil carefully placed them on the hospital bed before balling up the bags themselves and stuffing them in his pocket.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “What is… all of this?”

“Patton had a scrapbooking phase a while back.” Virgil explained. “After awhile it just turned into sticking photos in a book but Roman said to bring them anyway. The doctors said we should try to jog your memory and this was the easiest way we could think to do it.”

“I see.” Logan said. “And the plate of cookies?”

Virgil shrugged. “Patton baked your favorite.”

Logan frowned at the cookies as if they had personally offended him.

“I… I didn’t think I liked sweets.”

Virgil shrugged again. “You don’t have to eat them. Well… okay, you should probably have one so Pat isn’t sad, but after that you don’t have to.”

Logan nodded, more than a little uncomfortable. He didn’t like sweets. Of that he was quite sure. They had a pleasant taste, he supposed, but that was the only reason anyone ever ate them. It was a far more logical choice to eat in a healthy manner than to indulge in sweets simply because of taste.

He frowned a little, turning instead to the photo albums.

“Are these in some kind of order, then?” He asked.

Virgil chuckled. “Should be. Pat just stuck ‘em in as they happened. Here-”

He grabbed the books and stacked them in a different order, presumably chronological. He placed them on a nearby nightstand and handed the first one to Logan.

“I think this is first.” he said. “We took that picture after Roman’s first leading role, so it should be about the first year we met.”

Logan looked at the cover, seeing the picture he meant in the middle. On it was himself, surrounded by three other men as they stood outside a building he dimly recognized as the college theater. He recognized the man in the center as Roman, though his hair was longer by several inches and he was wearing some sort of royalty costume.

Roman had an arm draped around Logan, with Patton on Logan’s other side. If his face was anything to go by, they were like that to make sure he stayed in the photo. This was no real surprise, as Logan disliked being photographed unless it was a momentous occasion, and something like a performance hardly seemed noteable.

He looked to the man in Roman’s other arm, who seemed even less happy to be there than Logan did. The camera had caught him in the middle of shoving Roman away, the blur obscuring most of the details. What he could make out wasn’t particularly helpful, either. The man seemed whip-thin, all black clothing baggy and hanging off his lean frame.

He looked back up at Virgil. “Are you supposed to be this strange black blur?”

Virgil leaned over, looking at the blur in question. He snorted.

“Oh yeah. That’s me. I forgot how bad the photo was. I think I put up a fight when I saw Pat was using this for the front.”

Logan hummed noncommittally and flipped open the book, hoping for a clearer photo of the man to compare to the one in front of him.

Luckily he didn’t have to flip far. Within the first ten pages he found a full shot of Virgil by himself, making a face at the person behind the camera and a ridiculous hat perched on his head.

He paused and looked at Virgil. He looked, in short, very little like the one in the photo. The one in the photograph seemed on the very edge of being malnourished, bones visible through what skin he had showing. His dark brown hair was in front of his face, as if he was actively trying to hide from the world. The edge of a bruise poked out of his shirt, almost as dark as the circles under his eyes. But the one Logan was with now…

He seemed healthy. He’d put on a fair amount more weight, now filling out his clothes with a rounder stomach and love handles barely that were concealed by his baggy shirt. His hair was still draped in his face, but it had been colored purple and had clearly been cared for. His skin was clear of bruises and while his eyes still had bags one could tell at a glance that it was a stylistic choice. Applied by eyeshadow rather than caused by lack of sleep.

Overall it was a pleasing change. Logan decided he much prefered the Virgil in front of him to the one frozen in his lap.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, dark eyes glittering with amusement as he caught Logan staring.

“See something you like?” He joked.

Logan felt his face warm and cleared his throat.

“I was simply comparing your current appearance to that of these photographs.” he explained. “You, um- You appear to have gone through a number of physical changes since it was taken. I was merely taking note of them.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow and his lips curled in amusement. “I got fat, you mean?”

Logan’s eyes widened. “No, no, I was merely-”

“It’s okay, Lo. It’s not a bad thing, trust me.” Virgil chuckled. “Trust me, I prefer it this way.”

He patted his stomach fondly and Logan coughed, face likely still red.

“Might I ask,” he said tentatively. “What led to the sudden shift?”

Virgil smiled and shrugged. “The short version is that Patton started taking cooking classes and forced me to taste test for him. I’m pretty sure one time he gave me enough cake samples that I’d practically eaten an entire wedding cake in one sitting. Eventually he worked me up to eating whole meals for his “classes.” While still giving me the same amount of pastries.”

Logan felt his brow quirk. “I take it this was a ploy to… ‘put meat on your bones?’”

Virgil snorted. “Oh yeah, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Even if he had, he would have given it away when he cried after I first jumped up a size.”

His smile softened suddenly. “I appreciated it though. Still do. I liked seeing his smile everytime I agreed to another bite. I didn’t want to stop seeing it after I reached a healthy weight either. I think… I think that may have been the first time I fell in love with him.”

Logan felt his own expression soften. He thought about Patton’s smile when he’d first seen him. As if nothing in the world could ever go wrong again. A smile so bright and so genuine that everything else fell away, leaving you breathless and bewildered.

“I think I understand what you mean.”

Virgil lifted his smile to Logan, who suddenly realized he’d spoken aloud.

“I just… “ Logan paused. “He seems like the kind of person who is very easy to fall in love with. Personally I-”

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. He stared at the next photograph. He was missing from it, which likely meant he had taken it. The others were wrapped in blankets and piled on a couch, nearly on top of each other and fast asleep.

“I do not feel anything for any of you and it… is the most peculiar thing.” Logan bit his lip. “You tell me these stories and I they seem familiar, but I cannot remember them for the life of me. You all speak of emotions and experiences, things you have been through with me. But I can’t… I can’t remember.”

He felt something prickle in his eyes and furiously scrubbed at them.

“I apologize.” he said. “This is most illogical of me. I don’t… I am not normally so emotional. I apologize. It’s simply… frustrating.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Virgil said softly.

Logan looked up at him. Vigil was still smiling at him softly, though something in his eyes had changed. They regarded him sadly, with an understanding of someone who’d seen more than his share of hardships.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He repeated. “Your feelings are part of you, Lo. They’re healthy.”

“They are an encumberment.” Logan said, snapping the photobook closed. “Emotions are useless for everything except getting in the way of achieving. They are better put to the side so that one may better complete the task in front of them.”

Virgil’s lips curved downward. “You don’t really think that.”

Logan sniffed, putting the book with the others. “I think you will find that I do.”

“No I know you don’t really think that.” Virgil insisted. “The Logan I know-”

“I am not the Logan you knew.” Logan interrupted suddenly. “I might have been, once, but as it stands I do not remember the same things as he did. I have not undergone the same experiences.”

Virgil slowly curled in on himself as Logan continued. Part of him knew he was going too far and that he was “going off” at nothing. But he’d already started and the words were flooding out of his mouth with no sign of stopping.

“To my best recollections, three days ago I was in my English class. Then I woke up here with men whom I have never seen saying they remember me to be a completely different person. That we are engaged. That my favorite food is chocolate cookies. That I believe emotions are anything beyond an endless source of befuddlement. I do not know who the Logan you knew was. Try though you may to fool yourselves, I am not him.”

Logan breathed heavily, his piece said. Virgil was blinking very rapidly now, though his face was barely visible over the tops of his knees. He was curled into a tight ball, and Logan slammed face-first into the realization that he might have crossed a line somewhere.

He looked down at his hands. If he were capable of emotion, he thought, he might feel something akin to shame.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, each wrapped in his own thoughts. He watched in the corner of his eye as Virgil slowly unfolded.

“I know.” He said simply. “I- we all know that you aren’t who we remember. And while we loved him, and while we miss him, there’s a lot to be said for who you are now that we’ve overlooked. We… I’m sorry.”

Logan swallowed.

“No. I should not have said it in such a way, however true it… however true it may have felt. It was clearly affecting you and I did not stop. I apologize.”

Virgil’s mouth twitched. “Let’s just say we both messed up, okay?”

“Agreed.”

They were silent for a long while after that. Logan continued to stare at his hands, wondering everything they’d done during the black space he couldn’t recall.

“Thank you.” he said, deciding to break the silence. “For the photo albums. I… I wish to remember. Whether or not I wish to change who I am I don’t like having such a gap in my memories.”

“You’re welcome.” Virgil answered softly. “I hope they help.”

He listened as Virgil stood. He didn’t look up even as the other man walked all to the way to the door. He stopped just short of leaving though, which did make Logan look up.

Virgil appeared to be hesitating, as if he had something unpleasant to say.

“I almost forgot, but…” Virgil bit his lip uncertainty. “We called your parents yesterday. They said they’ll be here in a few days.”

Logan felt himself stiffen which was… strange. He had nothing against his parents. They were the ones who had pushed him to succeed. Giving him motivation was hardly a reason to harbor ill-will.

He forcefully shook himself, forcing his muscles to relax.

“Thank you for that,” He said. “It should be beneficial to see them.”

Virgil nodded stiffly, pausing again.

“I’m leaving the cookies.” He said all in one breath. “See you soon, Lo-Lo.”

Logan blinked as the first sentence registered. He turned to see that the plate in question was, in fact, still on his bed.

He huffed to himself. Surely there must be some sort of hospital protocol against bringing food in the wards, let alone leaving it there. Not to mention that Logan had already reiterated that he didn’t like sweets.

On the other hand…

He’d been comatose for two years, eating through a tube. After he’d woken up he’d eaten little beyond gelatin and questionable hospital food, all off a tray. It was dissatisfying to say the least. Yet here in front of him was a plate of a home cooked substance, a reprieve from the bland food he’d been having for far too long. And he was turning up his nose due to it’s format.

Reluctantly, he peeled back the cellophane wrap and reached for a cookie. He held it to his face, willing it to somehow have healthfully redeeming properties.

Lo-Lo, he mused. What an utterly illogical nickname.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of sex. Nothing to explicit or nsfw, but it does get talked about for a bit. I’m too ace to do much else, but I felt it should get addressed at some point. Also mentions of the accident that started this whole mess. I swear I didn’t mean for this chapter to be so heavy. Or so long. It kinda ran away from me.

Roman shuffled into the apartment uncharacteristically quitelly. While he would never admit to it aloud, he wasn’t quite up to being his normal, royal self. Logan’s… condition had put a damper on them all and he’d spent an entire workday pretending everything was fine.

So instead of his usual fanfare, he settled for calling a quiet announcement of his arrival as the door shut behind him. After entering the living room, he was glad he’d opted for a quieter entrance.

He gazed softly at the couch, where Virgil was softly dozing, tangled in a blanket. Every pillow in the room seemed to be in his arms, which meant he’d probably wanted hugs but couldn’t get them.

Roman started shifting them so he could slide in when the whiteboard caught his eye.

After their last WWLS session they’d declared they didn’t have enough information to say one way or another and had left it behind the couch so they could add to it. Since Roman had left this morning there had been an addition in either column, both in Virgil’s messy scrawl.

Roman squinted at the words, frowning a little as they registered into English.

Under “pros” he’d added “wants to remember” and under “cons” he’d added “regressed.” Which could only mean good things, of course. Roman might have laughed at his cynicism if it wouldn’t have woken Virgil.

It wasn’t like him to be the pessimistic one. Normally he was more than content to join Patton in the camp of optimist and leave the gloomy thoughts to Virgil. But lately… Lately life had stopped pulling punches. It had been harder to see the bright side through all the darkness.

He moved a few of the pillows and crawled into Virgil’s arms. Ironically enough, the world felt significantly brighter here. Even if the entire world went dark, he’d be okay if he had in the arms of his own little storm cloud. And Patton, and Logan. And maybe like a dog. A Broadway deal… couple of his friends.

Roman shook his head and chided himself for ruining his own moment.

Virgil stirred a little, eyes fluttering open.

Roman smiled softly. “Hey Sunshine. Sleep well?”

Virgil pulled him closer and mumbled indistinctly.

Roman chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Are we getting up or is Patton making dinner?”

Virgil responded by pulling him closer and burrowing his face in Roman’s hair. Roman laughed.

“Alright, babe. Naptime it is.”

Roman made himself comfortable and snuggled into Virgil.

****

The next day, Roman found himself to be the only one in Logan’s room. Patton had work (again) and Virgil had cryptically said he wanted to wait a day or two before going back.

Logan himself… wasn’t even in the room at first! And when he did get there he seemed very surprised to see Roman there.

“My apologies.” He said as a nurse helped him back into bed. “I’m afraid physical therapy went a bit longer than intended. I was unaware anyone would be here, so I did not see the harm.”

Roman waved a hand dismissively. “You are perfectly fine! Like you said, you didn’t know I’d be here. I didn’t mind waiting.”

Logan’s mouth twitched as he settled into bed. He turned to Roman again stiffly.

“So…” He said, trailing off a bit. “Did… Virgil inform you much of his visit? I notice he didn’t join you today.”

Roman shrugged. “He didn’t really say much about it. He might come in a day or so, if you’re worried about it.”

Logan shook his head. “No. I just… I was curious how much he told you.”

“Not much.” Roman said. “He was asleep when I got home and dragged me to Nap Town with him. Patton didn’t wake us up until dinner, during which he was strangely quiet so he’s probably repressing again, and then we all went to bed.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a lot of sleep. Are you both well?”

Roman chuckled. “We’re fine, for the most part. Things have just been a little extra strenuous lately.”

Logan’s eyes shifted to the IV and machines he was attached to, turning sad and almost wistful. Roman realized his mistake and backpedaled quickly.

“Not that it’s any fault of yours!” He said quickly. “The theater is putting on an enormous production right now. There’s been an influx of people coming into the vet, so Patton’s busy. Virgil, of course, is always stressed. Personally, I think it’s because he rarely leaves the house anymore. Like, he gets enough royalty checks that he doesn’t need a job, so beyond us dragging him somewhere he rarely leaves. And even when he does let us take him out it’s only to certain activities like dinner with friends or outings like that. He’ll agree to it if it’s a date or such, but if it’s not that or something quiet we can’t make him leave. I mean I can’t imagine being by yourself all day is healthy but what do I know, honestly? But if your anxiety is already so bad that you rarely leave the house and then your-”

Roman stopped suddenly and blushed.

“I’m… I’m sorry I don’t know where all that came from.” He said shyly.

He watched as Logan smiled softly. “You are quite welcome to continue, if you like. I…”

He hesitated. “I don’t know if Virgil told you this, but I got very short with him yesterday. I told him that I was not the man any of you remember and that I could not be because I do not remember him myself. Regardless of how true that may be, I would like…”

He trailed off, now staring at the window.

“I’d like to know you all.” Logan said quietly, almost whispering. “Maybe not as intimately as we seem to have been but… but if the me who knew you before… the me from two years prior… if he loved or even liked you all… “

Logan exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t know. I won’t pretend it makes sense. But with all that’s happened I find myself… unmoored. I do not know who I am, as I not only do not remember the people who claim to be closest to me, but I have no memory of the man they describe as me. I don’t… I don’t know anything, anymore.”

Roman softened. Logan was obviously more shaken then any of them realized. The logical man kept a large divide between himself and his feelings, it had taken them a long time to get him to even admit he had them, let alone talk about them.

If Roman were a betting man, he’d say the new item in the “cons” list was about Virgil realizing Logan had backtracked into that mindset. Yet he’d just come dangerously close to saying how he felt.

Roman sighed heavily and gently placed a hand over Logan’s. Logan jumped at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

“If you would like,” Roman said. “We- I can help you fill in the gaps. If you think it will help in any way, I’ll be here for you.”

Logan nodded slowly, and Roman could see the tears pooling in his eyes.

Logan cleared his throat. “Would you, uh… Perhaps we could start with you explaining some of the photographs in these albums?”

He reached for a book from the thick stack by his bed and flipped through it. Finally, he landed on a page and pointed at a photo.

“I followed the best that I could, but the captioning seems to stop here. Well,” Logan thought for a moment. “Actually it stopped a few volumes earlier. But prior to this moment here they were replaced with what appeared to be thematic stickers.”

Roman laughed and nodded. “That sounds like our puffball, alright. Okay, let me get a better look, here.”

He stood, delighting in the noise his heels made as they hit the linoleum. He peered over the photo, barely catching sight of the odd look Logan was suddenly giving him.

He smirked.

“Yes?” He asked in his most seductive, sultry voice.

It had the desired effect, Logan suddenly going beet red. He watched the man’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed forcefully.

“Are… are you wearing heels?” He asked.

Roman’s smirk broaded. “Sure am!”

He hopped onto the bed and stuck one leg perfectly straight into the air, a technique he’d perfected over several years of theater. Logan went even redder until he almost matched the ruby stilettos on Roman’s feet.

“Wh- why?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged. “I am in a relationship with three other men, two of whom are taller than me. I have to have some height in order to pick everyone up like the delicate damsels they are. Plus-”

He smirked again and caressed his thigh. “They make my legs look absolutely killer.”

Logan tore his eyes from the leg and looked Roan in the eye curiously.

“Do you often lift your partners bridal-style?” He asked.

Roman lowered his leg and leaned closer to Logan. He waited until he was nearly a hair’s-breadth away before replying.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Logan flushed. “Yes, yes I would. That is the entire point of the question! Of the entire exercise!”

Roman snickered and drew back. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself. Yes, I enjoy lifting my loved ones in the air and try to do so regularly, provided they don’t mind, of course.”

Logan nodded. “Thank you. Now then, can you help me with this picture? It’s being most perplexing.”

Roman craned his head, looking down at the photo.

“Oh I know this!” He said. “We went out to celebrate Virgil’s birthday, but Patton made the mistake of telling the staff of the restaurant we went to. They started to sing and he bolted, knocking the desert they were handing him into that poor waitress. Patton, poor dear, had been trying to take a photo at that exact moment, which is what you see before you.”

Logan nodded his understanding and pointed at the facade of himself in the photo.

“And my expression?” He asked. “I was unaware my face could contort in such a manner.”

Roman laughed. “Well if you’ll notice you are sitting next to Virgil. He took off quite explosively and wasn’t as if any of us were expecting it. And when he launched himself you sort of got… caught in the blast.”

Logan frowned down at the photo, taking note of the trajectory Virgil’s feet seem to have taken.

“He hit me in the face?” He asked.

Roman laughed. “Sure did! He spent the rest of the night apologizing for it too, poor little bean.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “I thought you were the shortest.”

Roman frowned in annoyance. “Maybe so, but at the time you wouldn’t have known it by looking at us.”

Logan frowned again as something seemed to occur to him.

“Did Patton have a history of documenting important developments?” He asked.

Roman rolled his eyes. “English, Teach.”

He stifled the unexpected disappointment when, instead of an eye roll, Logan gave him a bewildered look.

“I… what?” He asked.

Roman bit back a wince and tried to mold it into a smile. “Just… something I used to say when you started overthinking things. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Logan considered it for a moment. “I suppose if you continue it may help bring back memories-”

“But is it what you want?” Roman asked.

Logan blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “I don’t… “

“Do you want me to say that or do you hate it?”

Logan frowned. Roman hated the way his mind immediately jumped to admiring him. He had always loved Logan’s face when he was thinking hard. His eyebrows scrunched and his eyes sharpened, even though they were focused on nothing besides the the thoughts in his own head. Roman would gladly sell his acting career for one minute unraveling those thoughts.

He halted the train of thought as Logan looked back up at him.

“I think…” He said hesitantly. “If you could refrain from using it… at least until I am… better acquainted with… everything.”

Roman gave him a small smile and returned to sitting in the chair.

“Okay then. Now, to answer your question: yes, Patton took pictures of important events. He took pictures of nearly everything. Why?”

Logan bit his lip. “Then I suppose it would stand to reason that he documented the proposal, however if he is not the one who executed it than it will likely not appear any different to me than any other picture.”

“Ah.” Roman said. “I see.”

He turned to the stack of albums, pointing at the very last one. It was white, with glitter-laden butterflies poking out from underneath the album on top of it. Roman reached over and tapped it gently.

“The one just before this ends abruptly because Patton wanted a separate album for all the wedding events.” Roman explained. “It starts at the proposal, but I think it covers the entire wedding planning process. Well,” Roman thought for a minute. “No, he wasn’t present when we picked flower arrangements. He was very put out about it.”

A flicker of a smile graced Logan’s face before the heistation returned.

“Is there something else troubling you?” Roman asked.

“I…” Logan hesitated. “It… It is rather sensitive.”

“Hey,” Roman felt his face soften. “It’s alright. You can ask me anything. I’m here to help.”

Logan, strangely, flushed and averted his eyes. “That does not change the… delicacy of the matter at hand.”

Roman shrugged. “Maybe not, but I am offering and I haven’t ever known you to beat around the bush for long so,” He leaned back in his chair and offered a charming smile. “Ask away.”

Another smile flickered at the comment before Logan turned even redder.

“I… Have we… have any of us… I don’t know how to ask this!” Logan ran a hand down his face and turned back to Roman. “Have I… had sex with any of you?”

Roman’s face blanched. “Oh. Well I…”

“There is no pressure to answer if-”

“No, no!” Roman waved a hand and exhaled forcefully. “I promised I would answer so I will.”

He took a deep breath. “Thankfully it has a simple answer. Virgil and I are both too A-sexy for our shirts, and you hated the idea of it before marriage because of that whole sex-network thing. You know that whole “having sex with everyone they’ve had sex with?” It disgusted you and you wanted to wait until you were absolutely sure that we would get married. We asked Patton if he was alright with it and he insisted to wait until everyone was ready. We eventually decided to wait until the wedding night to… consummate it…”

Roman was certain his face was as red as his stilettos. Logan’s certainly was.

Logan cleared his throat. “Thank you. That was… informative. Could we return to the subject of the proposal now? I was very interested in that topic, who did it?”

Roman cleared his own throat. “Yes of course. Um, here, I shall fetch the album to assist us.”

He snagged it and climbed back onto Logan’s bed. He settled next to the other man’s waist and flipped open the album. He smiled at the picture of four intertwined hands in black and white, each one freshly adorned with a ring.

“I had plans for the perfect engagement, of course.” He said. “I was going to take you all out on a picnic on a hill and wait until the sun was just cresting under the trees. Then I would ask for all of you to accept my hand in marriage. I even had the rings!”

Logan smiled gently. “I take it you didn’t get to it, then?”

“NO!” Roman exclaimed. “No, I did not! Three days beforehand Virgil took us all to a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, which honestly should have tipped me off in hindsight, I mean the man’s nerves hardly ever let him out in public most days. But anyway he brought us all to a secluded room, growing more and more nervous as time passed. We all figured he would tell us if something was horrifically wrong, but naturally we were getting a bit nervous. It wasn’t until he was on the brink of a panic attack that we asked what was wrong, at which point he pulled out a long ring box.”

Roman laughed. “He kept stammering apologies about how he had planned out the perfect evening and had ruined it by freaking out. We all assured him that it was perfect because he was there with us. I was only slightly mad that he had stolen my thunder, but I returned the rings before anyone else saw them. If I’m being honest, I much prefer his selections.”

Roman smiled broadly as his eyes shifted to the ring on his finger. Even now, he loved it. The way the gold band caught the light, the way the red gems glittered, ornate and stately without being overstated. It was as perfect as the men it promised him to.

Logan shifted, drawing Roman’s eyes back to him. Logan was looking down at his own hands morosely.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Roman exclaimed. “Here I am waxing poetic about rings and you are without your own!”

Pink dusted Logan’s cheeks. “It- it’s not necessary. Please do not trouble yourself over it.”

“Nonsense!” Roman protested. “If you like, I will be sure that it arrives to you at the next visit.”

“I… It is still intact, then?” Logan asked.

“Yes if course! They couldn’t leave it on you, which was incredibly stupid if you ask me. So they put it, and all your other belongings from the night in a bag and gave them to us.”

Roman winced, realizing how it sounded. “I hate to use the word “salvage” but they were able to save quite a bit from the accident.”

Logan smiled gently. “It… It truly is alright, Roman. Although…”

Logan shook his head. “I know I have asked a lot of you today, but if you could answer this I swear we can return to a lighter subject of conversation.”

Roman nodded cautiously.

“All…alright, whatever you need Lov-Logan.” He corrected.

Logan hesitated again. “I do not… remember the night of the accident. I understand when it happened and I know that it may not be wise to bring up memories that are better left repressed, but I do not even know what happened. All anyone refers to it as is “the accident.” I am not a psychologist, but I belive it would benefit me to at least know that. Not necessarily my injures, just how I came to be comatose.”

Roman blinked. “Um. Okay, I can do that. Um… Well as you know it was a day before our wedding. We were having a movie night to calm all our frazzled nerves when one of your students called requiring assistance. Nothing major, just a few math problems. On your way out we asked you to grab us some popcorn. Over an hour later we got the phone call that you…”

Roman trailed off, trying very hard not to let the tears win. It had been two years ago. Logan was right next to him, safe and sound. There was no reason to cry.

“It is alright if it is a sore subject,” Logan said. “You do not have to continue.”

“No, you need to know.” Roman took a deep breath. “It was a semi, some big eighteen -wheeler who’s driver had a few more drinks than he admitted to.””

He paused as Logan’s face grew thoughtful.

“Do- Do you want me to keep going?” He asked tentatively.

Logan shook his head gently. “No, I believe I have heard enough to construct a thorough explanation. Thank you.”

Roman tilted his head in confusion. “Explanation? Whatever for?”

“For the nightmares I have been experiencing.” Logan said dismissively, turning pages in the first photobook. “They have been bothering me the past few nights, but I have been thus far unable to determine what happened during them. However you provided me with a sufficient explanation for that, thank you.”

Anger and worry bubbled in Roman’s chest, mixing together in a dangerous cocktail. He gripped the sides of the wedding album, practically glaring down at their interwoven hands.

“You’ve been having nightmares and you didn’t tell anyone?” He asked, carefully keeping his voice void of emotion.

“I told the doctor.” Logan said. “I wasn’t certain if it related to my health, but she had asked so I told her.”

“Well you didn’t tell us!” Roman snapped.

Logan looked up, eyes full of bewilderment and face covered in confusion.

“Should I have?”

Just like that, the anger rushed out of Roman. His shoulders slumped and he looked back to the album.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that he should have told them. And why should it have? From his perspective they were nothing but strangers. Strangers who knew him better than he knew himself, granted, but still strangers. If someone had walked up to Roman on the street claiming to be his spouse from a distant year, he would probably slap them. It was wonder that Logan was being as open as he was.

Roman chided himself silently. “No, I suppose there was no reason for you to. But if they worsen… well perhaps you could tell the doctor to tell one of us at least? We all have some experience dealing with nightmares and would take delight in helping you through them.”

Logan studied his face with an unreadable expression. Slowly, he nodded.

“I suppose… that would be logical.” He said.

They studied each others eyes for a long moment before a knock sounded at the door, causing both men to jump. They look over to see Dr. Camati standing in the door frame shyly.

“Sorry to interrupt gentlemen, but we need to run a couple more tests real quick.” She apologized.

Roman smiled reassuringly and hopped off the bed. “Oh, it’s no trouble. I think we were wrapping up anyway. Logan?”

Logan nodded. “Yes, I think we are done for the day.”

Roman smiled at him, turning to leave.

“Wait.” Logan said.

Roman turned, curious. Logan was making his thinking face again and studiously looking at the album in his lap.

“I should like not to have to wait twenty four hours every time I cannot figure out a picture.” He said, looking up at Roman and the doctor. “Is there anyway I could get a cell phone or some way to send photos and receive answers?”

Roman laughed loudly. “Oh, of course! We’ll make sure your cell phone is in your hands by this time tomorrow, dar- Logan. DarLogan, you like that, made up a word just now. I’ll make sure you get your phone tomorrow.”

Roman’s blush faded a little and he sent Logan a hopeful look.

“No pressure but… Is there anything else you would like brought to you?”

Logan glanced down at the book next to him, still open to the page of their hands, rings glittering even through the black and white filter. Logan’s gaze lingered on it before shyly looking back up at Roman.

“I think…” He said tentatively. “I think that will be all. For now, at least.”

Roman shot him a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, no rush. I shall see you soon… Lo-Lo.”

Roman winked at him and practically twirled out the door. He snickered as he heard Logan groan down the hall after him.

That night two more additions got made to their pros and cons list in swirly, red handwriting. “Is still a nerd” and “Nightmares.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if I wasn’t ace, something about losing your virginity when you can’t remember it doesn’t sit right with me so it probably wouldn’t have changed much.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh, I’m not super happy with this chapter but I want to move on already. This should be one of the last of the exposition chapters except for one thing I want to come up naturally (or at least later) but as a result the characterization feels off. Just bear with me on this cause the fun stuff comes after. (More notes at the end bc a lot of stuff happened between the two ANs.)
> 
> Warning: Sudden transition to nightmare with graphic descriptions of a car accident. If you scroll down to the “…” you’ll be good, and know about as much as Logan does. Stay safe. <3

Logan awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon. Which was… a bit more than perplexing. Almost as perplexing as the coldness on his right side.

Slowly he cracked open his eyes to find his bed lacking one warm shape. He heard distant humming and felt a small smile on his face. Gently, he pulled himself away from the other warm shapes and climbed out of bed.

He descended the stairs carefully and quietly, smile growing as he saw a figure twirling around the kitchen, the sunlight filtering through the blinds and almost seeming to make spotlights on them as they danced through the motions of making breakfast.

He crept up carefully, still unnoticed and waited until the figure came to rest in front of the coffee maker before wrapping his arms around them and burying his nose in their honey-brown hair.

He felt them giggle quietly.

“Moring. Did you sleep okay?”

He grunted in response. The figure just laughed again.

“Alright Mr. Grumpy Gus. Coffee first, I get the message.” They tugged at his hands. “I do need to check on the eggs though, so either let go or shuffle along.”

Logan grunted again, but allowed himself to be shuffled to the stove, not letting go of the figure’s waist or removing his face from their… incredibly soft locks of hair that seemed to smell like honey as well as look it.

Eventually another figure entered the room, or at least he assumed one did as the figure he had hold of turned to look in the general direction of the doorway.

“There you are!” the figure said, cheerful voice vibrating through Logan’s hands. “I need a bit of help, he’s extra snuggly today.”

A new voice laughed, a deep rich sound even though it seemed hushed.

“I can tell.” The new voice said. “Want me to take him to the couch?”

“Please?” The first figure said, and Logan could practically hear the apologetic smile.

“Say no more.”

Logan suddenly felt himself tugged away from the smell of honey-brown hair and warmth, both replaced with open air. A whine left his throat unbidden, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much.

The new voice tutted softly. “There, there. He’ll be back soon enough and then he’ll have your coffee. Won’t that be nice?”

Logan groggily and grumpily acquiesced and felt the second figure lift him into the air. He was unalarmed, though. It felt… normal. Expected. Welcome even.

He snuggled into the new figure’s chest and breathed in the new scent. It was silky and rich. Like the highest caliber of milk chocolate. And warm. A different warmth. Less like a spring afternoon and more like a campfire people would gather around to tell stories. He really liked being warm.

He snuggled deeper into the warm, feeling the figure it belonged to laugh, a pleasant, rumbling sensation right by his ear.

“See?” they asked. “Not so bad after all.”

Logan blinked up at them blearily. He attempted a smile, but even now he could feel the dredges of sleep climbing ever closer to him.

He was back to sleep before they reached the couch.

When he opened his eyes again he was still wrapped in the strong, strong arms that felt so warm. But there was also a new warmth huddled next to him. A cool sort of warmth, which part of his brain registered as an oxymoron. It felt safe, but mysterious, like walking through unknown woods with a friend.

He felt one of his hands creep closer to the new source of warmth until his hands were tangled in someone else’s. He blearily raised the hand to his lips, briefly catching the scent of petrichor as he planted a sloppy kiss to their knuckles before letting their hands drop into his lap, still intertwined.

He let himself drift off again.

Only to be rudely awoken by the campfire warmth shaking both him and the forest-y warmth back into consciousness.

He groaned at them, and the forest-y warmth groaned with him in sympathy.

“I know, I know, my precious Sleeping Beauties, but our True Love has made us a delicious breakfast that we would be heathens to pass up.”

“Weekend.” Croaked a new, gravelly voice, which Logan presumed belonged to his forest-y warmth. “S’p’ssed not t’ sleep in.”

The campfire warmth huffed. “Well just because you came to bed late! Darling? Would you be able to lend me a hand herding these night owls?”

Logan heard a giggled answer and some footsteps before the pleasant smell of dark roasted coffee filled his nose. He sniffed it greedily and frowned as it was moved away.

He reluctantly cracked open an eye, seeing a warm, amused smile in front of him, holding the desired liquid gold. He pried a hand free from the other two warm bodies and reached for it, but the smile moved out of reach. They lurked just outside of his poor vision and Logan suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

The smile wagged a finger disapprovingly.

“Uh-uh.” they tutted. “You gotta come to the table if you want coffee. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.”

Logan frowned harder, but reluctantly clambered out of the warmstrongsafe arms and shuffled to the table. Once he sat down he turned back to the smile and made grabby hands for the promised mug.

The smile laughed and placed it in front of him. They ruffled his hair gently as he grabbed it and placed a kiss at his temple as he swallowed a mouthful of blessed wakefulness.

Another body was placed in a chair next to him, also receiving a mug of coffee. Which Logan watched them down half of out of the corner of his eye. He heard a small click in front of him and glanced down to see his glasses placed gently next to his plate.

He muttered a thanks and let his eyes slide closed. Not sleeping, just… restful. Content. Warm from the mug of coffee in one hand, the fingers threaded through his in the other, and the pleasant hum of voices as the remaining two shuffled from the counters to the table, placing food.

A loud crash startled Logan from his reivere. Gone was the warmth. Gone was the mug of coffee, although there was quite a lot of warm liquid everywhere, it seemed. Gone was the golden haze of morning, replaced by dark, dark night time and flashing reds and blues. Gone was the hand in his. Gone were the soft, gentle voices, all he heard now was shouting, shouting, shouting!

Gone was any sense of safety.

The black crept up on Logan, even though he fought it. He fought hard.

Now was not the time to sleep. Someone was yelling at him not to, anyway. As if he didn’t have enough medical knowledge to know that on his own.

Even still, it was a losing battle. And Logan felt himself slip. Slip. Slip…

Until there was nothing…

…

Logan sat upright with a jolt and clamped a hand to his mouth. Panic flooded his veins and he slowly worked his way through breathing exercises, too worked up to question how he knew them. He did, and they helped and that was good enough right now.

Once he was calm enough Logan grabbed a notepad one of the nurses had left him, trying to recall the fragments of his dream.

He screwed up his eyes. Warmth. Something about warmth. It had started out so nice. And then… cold. Cold with a lot of flashing lights.

He scribbled these out hastily, trying to get his breathing back under control.

After finishing both these tasks he looked down at his notes, everything else about the dream now gone. He glared at them, trying to puzzle out their meaning. Dimly, he was very grateful he was no longer attached to a heart monitor.

The flashing lights were easy enough. He remembered that they had been red and blue, for emergency vehicles. Likely the night of his accident. But the feeling of warmth was more difficult.

He shivered, suddenly realizing how cold he was.

Maybe that was it, he reasoned. My hospital room got cold so I dreamed something warm to compensate. That makes sense.

But… it didn’t did it? Not really. It followed logic but… it didn’t feel like that was it… Like there was something more to it.

Logan shook himself, feeling his eyebrow crease. Listen to him. Feelings, ugh.

He had gotten cold. That was it. Come morning, or a proper waking time at least, he would ask a nurse for another blanket and that would be that.

Logan resolutely placed the notepad back and settled back into the bed.

That would be that. He thought, drifting back to a hopefully more peaceful sleep.

But do I want it to be?

***

The ceiling was starting to look incredibly dull. So dull, in fact, that it was starting to circle back around into being interesting again. Illusionary shapes began appearing in the tiles and some of them had started moving.

If Logan hadn’t just come out of a two year coma he would swear he was going insane.

Maybe he still was.

Luckily, his boredom was broken around noon, when a cheerful voice shattered his doleful silence.

“Visitor!”

Logan straightened, turning to face the small, peppy ball of sunshine personified that had entered his room. Patton gave him a cheerful smile.

“Hiya!” He said. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping in.”

Logan shook his head. “No, I would be quite grateful for the distraction, actually. Today was proving quite droll.”

Patton beamed and maneuvered inside. Logan started, only just noticing the large box in Patton’s hands. He set it down next to the chair, which he then practically jumped into.

“Pleasure to see you again, Patton.” Logan said.

Patton giggled. “Nice to see you too. I was a little worried you’d be asleep when I got here, the nurses say you’ve been taking a lot of naps.”

Logan sighed, vaguely annoyed. “I assure you, it is mostly from a complete lack of any other stimuli. If the hospital could provide more suitable entertainment than a television that only plays cartoons, perhaps I would be less inclined to such frequent bouts of unconsciousness.”

Patton paused and Logan briefly worried that he hadn’t been clear in his meanings before the other man slowly nodded, grin growing shyly.

“I think I can help with that.”

He reached down and pulled the box up so that it was on the bed, next to Logan’s leg. He opened it and pulled out a few items.

“I brought you a care package!” Patton explained. “See, we’ve got puzzle books, flash cards, your rubix cube, oh, I brought an Agatha Christie novel too. Now you’ve already read it, technically, but it was during the time you forgot so I think even if you do remember the end that’s just a good sign right?”

Logan blinked. “Um, yes?”

“Right! So there’s that. Ro also wanted me to put your cell phone and charger in here. It’s a little outdated by now, but there should still be a couple games on it. Our numbers should all still be in there too. Oh! Whatever you do, don’t install the updates. It’ll ask for them, it’ll say it can’t function without them, but whatever you do. Don’t. Install. The updates!”

Logan drew back a bit, startled at the sudden change in the man’s demeanor. “I promise.”

Patton’s face snapped back into a happy grin. “Great! Okay, let’s see what else- oh! Threw some more cookies in here. Roman saw you were running low yesterday, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t run out.”

Logan felt his face grow warm. “I- I assure you, it is merely-”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” Patton waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no shame in having a sweet tooth. Otherwise I’d be in big trouble!”

Patton laughed and Logan felt his lips twitch upwards.

“Yes, perhaps…”

Eventually Patton slowed to a giggle.

“So,” He said, “Is there anything you need? Virge and Ro said they answered questions for you so-”

“Ah, yes!” Logan said quickly.

He leaned over and grabbed one of the albums near the middle and started flicking through it.

“Most of these either have captions or have enough stickers that I can grasp the events through context. Of course, the stickers, as well, stop at one point, but most of those pictures are simplistic enough that their meaning, or at least intent, can be grasped with little help.”

He glanced up to see if Patton was following. There was a confused look on his face, but he was nodding slowly. Logan took it as encouragement and continued.

“Truly these albums have been helpful, at least regarding major events. However the one thing they cannot help me with is the events that lead to those events. Playbills can be pressed into the pages but they cannot capture being asked to the theater by your loved one, if you understand my meaning?”

Patton blinked, still looking slightly confused. “Yes. I think…”

“Excellent. Then What I need your help for is- well…”

Logan paused, face growing warm again. He turned the photo book so that Patton could see what it was.

It was a messy shot, clearly taken by one of the men in the frame, a frame which Patton’s arm was sticking out of. A selfie, he thinks it was called. They were dressed nicely, in what were probably their best clothes, barring any formal wear. Everyone’s hair was well done and he could even see hints of makeup on both Roman and Virgil.

Most prominently, though, were the smiles adorned on each of their faces. They were shy and scared, but giddy and excited. Smiles that promised the start of something new.

“Oh,” Patton gasped gently. “This was our first date.”

Logan’s face grew ever warmer. “Yes, it would appear so. However this is the only picture of that night, and even were it not there are a great deal many things that cannot be captured in a photograph. If I may ask would you tell me-”

He was cut off by Patton bouncing onto the bed. “Of course! I’ll tell you everything!”

He grabbed the album, stopping it from falling off and gestured at the photo.

“Roman asked us out, so he got to pick the place. He was super nervous too, and kept rambling about how he’d tried to pick something perfect. It was so cute!” Patton gushed. “But anyway, he took us to this nice cafe and we all just talked. I don’t really remember much about what we talked about, but I think for the most part we sorted everything out. The confessions were kinda a mess after all.”

Logan blinked. “Were they?”

Patton started. “Oh, yeah it wasn’t super pretty. We’d all been pining for a while but then you started avoiding us and when we asked you why you kinda broke down.”

Logan arched an eyebrow. “I would hardly qualify myself as the sort to break down.”

Patton shrugged. “You’d been bottling stuff up a while. It happens.”

Not to me, Logan thought. Emotionless machines such as myself do not break down into tears like that.

He refrained from saying as such, not wanting Patton to become upset. Instead he let out a non-committal hum and returned to the album.

“What transpired after this supposed breakdown?” He asked.

“Well we talked about it,” Patton said. “We talked for a really long time. We all admitted our feelings and agreed to try a date. Then we watched a movie to calm down.”

Patton chuckled. “Roman wouldn’t let go of you the whole time. It was really cute.”

Logan blushed. “I see. Thank you for… explaining, I suppose.”

“No problem-o!” Patton chirped. “Anything else?”

Logan hesitated. “You mentioned flashcards?”

He winced at his own phrasing. He hated it when statements sounded like questions, it made no grammatical sense and if you were writing it only confused the reader unless you pointed it out.

Patton didn’t seem to notice his grammatical error, thankfully. His eyes sparked with amusement and he withdrew a stack of three by five notecards.

“Roman made them for you as joke,” Patton explained. “You kept using slang incorrectly, and it got on his nerves so he made these for you. It started as a joke, but you started to actually use them and improve and… stuff.”

Patton giggled awkwardly. “Anyway… He asked me to throw them in here so you could study if you want to.”

Logan nodded stiffly. “I had hoped… Never mind, it is irrelevant, I suppose.”

Patton’s eyes filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “No, you can ask. What is it?”

Logan bit his lip. “It is, unimportant, I suppose but… Did I graduate? And likewise you mentioned I had students, does that mean I am- or was a teacher?”

“Oh, of course!” Patton exclaimed, smacking his forehead. “Duh, you’d want to know that. I don’t know why we didn’t tell you sooner, I’m sorry.”

“Um… apology accepted, I suppose.”

Patton smiled and started listing things off on his fingers. “Full honors, 4.0 GPA with the highest grades in every class, bachelors in astronomy with an associates in education, still don’t know how you did that by the way, and you were valedictorian for graduation, which you somehow did a year early. After that a university snatched you up as their astrology professor, probably because you’re such a star.”

Logan blinked, trying to absorb all the information that had just been rattled off at him. Information about what he had done, supposedly. It was almost… disappointing how perfectly he would have been able to predict every aspect of it.

“I see.” He said finally. “Thank you for providing that clarity, Patton.”

Patton beamed at him. “You’re welcome!”

They sat in an awkward silence. Logan had many more questions but asking them all suddenly felt… burdensome. He wasn’t worried about the others minding, per say, but he was beginning to grow… frustrated with his own mind.

He should know these things. He had known these things. They were the basics, elementary things that anyone who had met him two years ago would have known. But he didn’t. Not anymore.

And it was borderline infuriating.

“So…” Patton said, startling him from his thoughts. “Anything good on TV lately?”

***

They spent the next hour discussing cartoons, much to Logan’s protest. Patton seemed to sense his embarrassment and made up for it by arranging the contents of the “care package” to Logan’s desire.

Much to the latter’s constant frustration he was still lacking in the muscle strength to do such things on his own.

Luckily Patton seemed a good deal more intelligent than he let on and was happy to spend the remaining visiting hours letting Logan tell him how to make everything organized yet remain within arm’s reach.

Logan was almost sad to see him leave, but it couldn’t be helped. There were always more tests to run, after all. Always more therapy to do. At least now he had some decent entertainment as well as a cell phone.

Even if the latter would not stop buzzing from year-old notifications.

Eventually he elected to silence it and check what was worth checking in the morning. Provided he was able to find out his own passcode, of course.

 

This got. SO LONG?? I just chopped it cause like… I wanna update already. Kiss my schedule goodbye, but I do wanna update already. So anyway, that’s why it kinda cuts off. Next chapter will still be from Logan’s POV.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c The plot… she thiccens. [insert picture of knife cat]

The following morning it seemed nothing was worth checking. The majority were messages from two years ago asking if he was alright, some more frantic than others. There were also a few emails from what he presumed was the college he worked at along similar, if more professional lines.

All of them dropped off after a month, so Logan assumed that was when his “fiances” had contacted everyone and explained the situation.

The rest was all junk mail.

Logan sifted through the last of it and sighed heavily. He turned to his novels, debating which one to start when his phone made a pinging noise.

He raised an eyebrow and unlocked it (his usual passcode, thank goodness).

A text had been sent from “Prince.” He opened it.

Prince: Good Morning! Patton told me he gave you your phone, so I wanted to be absolutely certain you still had my number. I also wanted to wish you a good morning and a stupendous day! -Roman <3

Logan smirked in spite of himself.

Me: Of course I still have your number. Unless it spontaneously erased within two years, it would stand to reason that your number would still be in my phone.

Me: The well-wishes are appreciated, however strange they may be.

Prince: They aren’t strange!!!

Prince: What’s so strange about sending you good vibes?

Me: Merely the fact that my day will progress the same way as it would have if you had not contacted me at all. Your “good vibes” have little to no impact on my day.

Prince: …

Prince: Well that’s just rude. XP

Prince: Accept the good vibes or I’m telling Pat u were mean.

Me: A letter cannot be mean.

Me: It is a letter.

His phone dinged again, this time with a message from “Sanders.”

Sanders: idk wat u said but ro’s pouting so pls stop

Me: Your grammar is horrendous.

Sanders: eh

Me: Regardless, I will apologize if you deem it necessary. Whoever you are.

Sanders: do u not have our contact info?

Me: I do, but it seems formal to a fault. Everyone is listed by last names. While an efficient system of organization, it does require me to know the last name of the the one I am speaking to. As well as their first name if it is necessary.

Me: Judging by you’re nonchalance about my being awake as well as your comment about Roman, I conclude you are likely either Virgil or Patton.

Sanders: ok slow down

Sanders: first off its virgil

Sanders: second off that sounds like something youd do

Sanders: i think we asked you to chang it a bunch of times but you were always in the middle of something and never got around to it

Me: I see. That sounds rather within the confines of my character. Thank you.

Sanders: welcome?

Me: I shall apologize to Roman shortly. Thank you for your assistance, I shall speak with you again soon.

Sanders: cool. ttyl

Logan had just enough time to send Roman a proper apology before his phone made yet another annoying ping.

P. Picani: Heya!!! *^0^* Everyone else was texting you, so I wanted to join in! <3

P. Picani: Oh, this is Patton, btw.

Me: Salutations.

Me: Thank you for the clarification.

P. Picani: Anytime! *^>^*

Me: Is there anything you require?

P. Picani: Nope! Just a talk with my favorite Astrology teacher!

Me: Patton I believe I taught Astronomy, not Astrology. That is what you said yesterday.

P. Picani: Oops! My bad. Just me luck cause around you…

P. Picani: I’m always seeing stars! <3 <3 <3

Me: I am going to scream, the hospital staff will wonder who hurt me, I will answer you, and you will be barred further entry.

P. Picani: Lol

P. Picani: Well, I gtg anyway. :( Got a bunch of kiddo to watch today. Wtich also means I won’t be able to make it to the hospital to visit!! ToT

Me: I assure you, I will be fine. Farewell.

P. Picani: Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyye!!!!

Logan set his phone aside, almost laughing at the the others’ antics. It would seem they were determined to be a source of his exasperation.

“Annoying aren’t they?”

He whirled, facing the doorway, in which an old and blessedly familiar friend was leaning against the frame.

“Damien,” Logan said, a touch of relief flooding into his voice. “I was beginning to wonder where you were.”

Damien’s mouth curved upwards, warping the scar tissue on the left side of his face. He strode over, his yellow and black clothes as pressed and clean as ever, and he set his bowler cap on the stack of photo albums.

His discolored eye twinkled as he pushed the chair back and sat down.

“I was waiting for a day those fools were here.” Damien explained in his usual backwards way. “I didn’t want to see you alone so I that I didn’t have an opportunity to tell you the truth. But we can’t talk about that later.”

Damien waved a dismissive hand. “At any rate, I am sure this all must make perfect sense to you.”

Logan sighed heavily, leaning back on his bed.

“To tell you the truth, yes. I am very confused. Everyone has been pressing me to remember things I cannot and it has been very… discouraging.”

“Good thing you’re not a heartless machine, then.” Damien laughed. “A greater man would have crumbled under the emotions but you? You’re just chock full of them.”

Logan flashed him a brief smile. Damien was right, really. Lesser, more emotional men would have broken apart from all this stress. The fact that he hadn’t only proved he had no emotions to speak of.

“I suppose I am holding up well,” he said slowly. “All things considered.”

Damien hummed noncommittally and Logan’s phone dinged again.

Prince: No worries, Albert Four-Einstein! Twas but a joke! ;P

“I think you should spend more time with them.” Damien said suddenly.

Logan looked back up at him, startled.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I mean they very clearly aren’t manipulating you, so you should spend time with them.” Damien crossed his arms, scowling at Logan’s phone.

“I… Pardon me, but I still do not quite grasp your meaning.” Logan said haltingly.

Damien stood abruptly and crossed to the window. He stared out of it pensively, arms still crossed.

“Don’t tell me,” he said slowly. “The one fact you’ve known your whole life. The one that wasn’t drilled into your head.”

Logan felt his brow furrow. “The fact I’ve- oh! That I am devoid of emotions, and all the better for it.”

“No,” Damien agreed. “And don’t tell me what those bozos have been feeding you, have been endorsing at every turn. What haven’t they been telling you you have, Logan?”

Logan’s mouth went dry. “Ah. Yes I believe… I believe I see now.”

Damien whirled, eyes full of fury.

“Don’t you?” He asked loudly. “Don’t you, because trust me I would just love to lose you again now that I’ve got a second chance!”

Logan blinked. “Lose me?”

The anger seemed to rush out of Damien all at once. He walked back to the chair and landed in it heavily.

“Virgil and I have never dated.” He explained. “Things got wonderful, and I broke it off. In his unfailing truthful goodness, Virgil twisted you away to my side. I didn’t have to watch as you went through what I did, only better. Better because it was just you in his web. His lies didn’t grow to encompass a theater nerd or a hapless baking student. And they certainly didn’t start doing the same as him. They may not have vowed to marry you, but it was a healthy relationship, Logos. I want to watch that happen again.”

Logan suddenly felt like the floor had dropped out of the room. Damien… Damien may have a condition where endless lies spilled from his lips, but once you knew they were lies he tended to be quite honest. If Logan wasn’t- if he had feelings he would consider Damien his best friend. Damien had no reason to lie to him.

But… but it couldn’t be true. Virgil, Patton, Roman… emotional manipulation didn’t sound like… them. Something about it didn’t fit quite right. But to be fair, he’d known them for all of four days if you discounted his lost time. They were strangers. He didn’t know them at all, even if he had before. And here was Damien, who had no discernible motive for falsehood, saying they were trying to convince him away from the fact he had known all his life.

And it was a fact, he knew that now. A stone cold one that Damien had had to remind him of.

On the other hand…

His eyes drifted to the stack of photo albums, upon which Damien’s hat still stood. He wasn’t familiar with emotions… but the ones in those photographs seemed genuine. As did the stories behind them.

Logan cleared his throat. “I… pardon that is… quite a lot to process.”

Damien smiled sympathetically. “I don’t know.”

“Let me be certain I understood you correctly. Not that I mistrust you,” he amended as Damien’s hackles rose. “Simply that your manner of speech lends itself to misunderstandings and I shall need full clarity.”

“Oh, your head injury left my speaking habits, I see?” Damien snarked.

Logan frowned. “I believe I have already explained myself adequately, but I apologize if I have misspoken.”

He took another deep breath. “Now then, you said that the men that came in here and claimed to be my fiancées have been lying and manipulating me, partially by saying that I have emotions. Am I correct so far?”

“No.” Damien nodded.

Logan nodded sharply and continued. “You also said that you and Virgil were previously in a romantic relationship, but that he had broken it off and then began manipulating me, as he had done to you?”

Damien nodded.

Logan took another, shaky breath. “I… I understand. If I might have time to… consider this new information.”

“Of course not.” Damien said, smiling gently. “Here, don’t hand me your phone.”

Logan passed him the device and Damien tapped on it intently.

“Oh big surprise,” he said. “You still have my contact information. Allow me to leave that as is.”

He tapped some more and handed it back to Logan. Faus had just been added to his contacts.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“You aren’t welcome.” Damien said. “Don’t contact me if you need to know the truth, I will be upset to help you.”

“Of course.” Logan said.

He paused. “Thank you, Dolos. It is good to know I can still trust you after all that has happened.”

Damien smiled. “Never again, Logos.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter so far, and I didn’t edit it so… I’m just gonna yeet it in y’alls general direction and run.

“And then this,” Patton opened the door, holding it so Logan could get a better view. “Is your room. Well, it was your study, but we put a bed in here because we figured you wouldn’t want to jump right back into sharing our bed just yet.”

Logan nodded absently and Patton felt his smile strain.

It had been almost a month since he’d woken up and they were no closer to getting their Lo-Lo back. At least it didn’t feel like they were any closer. True, he had agreed to move back into their apartment, but in his own words that was more for convenience than anything.

Things had been going so well before, too. He at least seemed open to the idea of being in love, being their love, but out of nowhere he had shut down and started to shut them out.

It hurt more than Patton could describe.

“Right,” He said. “Well I’ll let you get comfy then. We’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

Logan nodded again and Patton headed down the stairs, towards the kitchen.

Virgil and Roman were trying to make cookies, which wasn’t very simple when Virgil was holding the eggs above his head, and out of Roman’s reach.

“You always crack them wrong and get them splattered everywhere.” Virgil protested.

Roman gasped. “I do not! I am perfectly adept at cracking eggs, now let me at them.”

“Nope!”

Virgil stretched his arm even higher, to where Roman couldn’t reach even on tiptoe. Roman swore colorfully and tried anyway. Patton rolled his eyes fondly and plucked the egg carton out of Virgil’s hands.

“Watch your language, Roman,” He chided. “And you do tend to splatter, sweetheart.”

Roman scowled. “Slander! Lies and slander! My own beloved beloveds, betraying me!”

Roman walked backwards until his legs met a chair. He collapsed backwards dramatically, taking up two chairs. One hand clutched his chest, the other he flung despairingly over his eyes.

“How will I ever recover from this?” He wailed.

Virgil rolled his eyes and resumed baking, taking the eggs from Patton and cracking three into the batter.

“You’ll live.” He said.

“No I won’t!” Roman protested. “I will die of neglect because my two and a half true loves no longer care when I am in great pain. I am doomed to suffer.”

“It’s just eggs, Ro.”

“It’s my very stature!”

Patton giggled and scooped Roman up from the chairs. He squeaked, throwing his arms around Patton’s neck. Patton grinned and placed a kiss on Roman’s lips. He melted, relaxing into it and Patton felt his mouth smile against his.

“Okay,” Roman said, pulling away reluctantly. “Perhaps I will live after all.”

Patton laughed and set him on the counter. He caught sight of VIrgil’s face and smirked mischievously.

He wrapped an arm around his waist. “What’s wrong Mr. Grumpy Gus?”

“Nothing.” Virgil said, trying in vain to clear his frown.

“Virgil,” Patton sang softly. “I know somethings wrong, what’s up?”

Virgil stayed silent, but if the way he was beating the batter was any indication, he was still upset. And maybe getting more so.

Patton frowned a little bit and placed a small kiss on Virgil’s jaw, just below his ear. As always, Virgil’s brain stopped functioning. He paused, giving Patton time to pass the bowl of batter to Roman and readjust Virgil to face him.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked.

Virgil sighed forcefully and leaned into Patton’s chest.

“I hate that that keeps working.” He grumbled.

“No you don’t,” Patton said. “You’re like a cat, and it’s cute. Anyway you’re changing the subject. What’s eating you, baby?”

Virgil snuggled closer. “I’m just worried.”

“Oh?” Patton started running a hand through Virgil’s hair, making him relax even more. “About what?”

“Nothing. Everything.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, pumpkin.”

Virgil huffed and burrowed further into Patton. “I just… somethings wrong. I can feel it. It’s wrong and it’s bad and it’ll hurt everything… but I don’t know what it is.”

Patton snuggled him a little closer. “Do you think it might be your brain being stupid again?”

“No, I don’t think it’s that.” Virgil said. “I can just… sense it, you know? Like a snake in the grass.”

Patton sighed, still stroking Virgil’s hair. “How can I help, honey?”

He felt Virgil shrug.

“Do you want me to call someone over?” Patton asked.

Virgil nodded hesitantly.

“Okay,” Patton hummed. “Is it a Code Pink?”

Virgil shook his head. “Not that bad. Besides, I’ve got an appointment set up for tomorrow anyway. Calling Emile is just overkill.”

“Okie dokie. Is it… Code Brown?” Patton asked.

“Nah, he’s busy with a play right now.” Virgil said.

Patton frowned. “You know he’d come anyway if you needed him.”

Virgil shrugged non-committedly. “Yeah but I don’t think I need him right now.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Patton said. “How about a Code Black?”

“I thought I was Code Black.” Virgil said.

“No, you’re Code Bleak.” Roman joked.

Patton shot him a glare. “You are a beautiful Code Purple. The color of the night sky when it’s fading to twilight.”

Virgil hummed happily. “I still think we should call him Code Zebra or something. It fit’s him a lot better.”

Patton laughed. “I guess that’s true. Do you want me to call him? He doesn’t open until late so we know he’s not busy.”

Virgil sighed heavily. “Yeah. Yeah okay. Let’s call my big brother.”

***

A half hour later Patton was pulling the cookies out of the oven and the door slammed open.

“Sorry girls!” A sing-song voice called. “Traffic was murder.”

“You walk everywhere,” Patton laughed.

A head of purple-pink hair poked through the kitchen. Remy lowered his sunglasses and pouted at Patton.

“Are you really gonna make me spill my guts Pat?” He asked. “Are you really gonna make me say I got lost again out loud for the whole world to hear? You gonna make me do that?”

Patton giggled. “No, I guess not.”

“Fab. Where’s my baby bro?” Remy asked.

“On the couch,” Patton said. “Roman took over the snuggling detail so they’re probably watching Over the Garden Wall again.”

Remy’s nose wrinkled. “I’ll never understand his tastes. In anything but men.”

Patton laughed again. “Tell Ro I need his help in the kitchen when you take over.”

Remy gave him a two-fingered salute and breezed into the living room.

“Will do.”

***

Virgil was, in fact, curled up on the couch with Roman draped over him, Over the Garden Wall playing on the screen. This was around the thirtieth time they’d rewatched it, but it was Virgil’s go-to for bad days. And this was somewhat shaping up to be a bad week.

He wasn’t going to complain though, the show was good and Roman was war-

Rapidly being lifted away from him?

He turned his head just in time for Remy’s body to replace Roman’s. He draped himself over his younger brother and made a shooing motion at Roman.

“You’re big ol’ eclair needs his Prince,” He said. “It’s bro-bro time now, adios.”

Roman blew Remy a raspberry and headed into the kitchen. Remy shifted to his back and took a sip from his starbucks.

“So what’s up, Venti?” He asked. “Pat-a-pat says you’re on edge.”

Virgil sighed. “Why am I Venti?”

“Because it starts with a V and it’s in the middle of the three most iconic drinks, just like you. Now stop dodging and spill, girlfriend.”

Remy sipped from his drink again, tilting his head.

Virgil wrinkled his nose.

“I can’t spill if there’s nothing to spill,” He said with a growl. “I can’t explain what’s wrong if I don’t know what it is. I just know somethings wrong and it’s making me nauseous.”

“M’kay.” Remy said slowly. “So do you need distraction or comfort? Or both? Cause like, we could go get mani-pedis right now. I know our precious Grande needs a break too. Everyone’s all stressed cause of finals week and the play and honestly I think we all just need some bro time.”

Virgil shrugged. “I dunno I-”

“Who’s this?”

Virgil looked up. Logan was standing at the foot of the stairs, staring at them warily. Virgil blinked.

“Oh, this is Remy,” He explained. “My older brother.”

Remy raised his cup. “Yo! What up, girl?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking mildly offended. “I am a man, thank you.”

Virgil snickered. “Nah, that’s just how he talks. I think his soul got swapped with a basic white girl when we were kids.”

Remy gasped. “How dare you! I am a basic white girl, thank you very much! Have you seen me? Girl, I could give all other basics a run for their blonde money.”

Virgil hummed. “You’re missing a valley accent.”

Remy’s nose wrinkled. “Thank Starbucks for that. Can you imagine me with- no. Nope sorry, my brain won’t process that. It’s in the garbage now.”

“Yeah, along with most of your taste.” Virgil teased.

Remy lowered his sunglasses. “No, Venti, that’s you.”

Virgil barked out a laugh and Remy decisively pushed up his sunglasses. He leapt up from the couch and walked over to Logan.

He took a long sip from his drink, and Virgil watched as Logan’s eyebrow continued climbing. Remy finally finished with a smack of his lips.

“It’s good to see you up and adam, Necktie,” Remy said with a smirk. “Kinda missed being able to bug you like that.”

Logan looked affronted. “You mean this is something you habitually do?”

Remy nodded. “Yes ma’am. Anyway, tell the loverboys I’m taking Venti out for a spin, and that we might pick up Grande too. We’re gonna get our nails done, then I’ll return with a fully relaxed Venti bro-bro.”

Logan squinted at him. “Are you… even speaking English right now?”

“He means he’s taking me out for a ‘self-care day,’” Virgil translated. “And that we might get our younger brother in on it too, since he’s apparently stressed out of his mind, but that we’ll be back later.”

He paused. “Wait, if I’m Venti and Thomas is Grande, what does that make you?”

Remy waved his thirty-one ounce drink again. “I’m a Trenta, obvi. Biggest and most sleepless, now let’s go.”

“I’m not calling you that,” Virgil said as Remy dragged him off the couch. “It’s really, really stupid and you need to stop drinking that much anyway.”

“Can’t stop, won’t stop!” Remy said as they walked out the door. “I run a nightclub, babe, it’s par for the course. Call Thomathy and tell him we’re o-t-w.”

***

Logan walked into the kitchen cautiously.

“Is that… normal?” He asked.

Patton glanced up from his rolling pin. “Oh yeah. Those two are real mischief makers when you put them together. Thomas is able to calm them down, but sometimes Virgey just needs the pick-me-up of causing trouble.”

“They seem… close.” Logan said.

He was thinking an entirely different word. A word along the lines of “strange” and “troublesome,” but more extreme.

Roman laughed loudly. “Yeah, now. You should have seen them when we all first met. Talk about tension.”

Logan gave him a flat look. “I could be wrong, but I have been reliably told I was there.”

Roman flushed and laughed nervously. “Ah… yes.”

“He’s right about the tension, though,” Patton said. “They were always at each other’s throats over the tiniest things.”

“Why?” Logan asked. “What happened?”

Roman shrugged.

“The same thing that happened to all of us,” Roman spread his arms grandly. “Childhood trauma!”

He jazzed his hands and Logan blinked questioningly at him. Paton shot Roman a scolding glare.

“Not all of us,” He said. “And besides, I don’t know that it’s necessarily trama.”

Roman dropped his arms. “Well what would you call our tragic backstories then?”

“A black void of absent memories,” Logan commented.

Patton winced. “Okay, I guess that’s kinda fair.”

“Bit upsetting though,” Roman muttered.

“Anyway, we can tell you if you want us to,” Patton said. “Virgil told us all a while back, so I don’t think he’d mind that much.”

Logan nodded and took a seat at the table across Roman.

“Please do.”

Patton nodded back and turned back to his rolling pin.

“Well the thing is, their parents were always pretty loose on the rules,” He said. “They basically let Remy and Virgil do whatever they wanted.”

“Which is great,” Roman interrupted. “Unless you’re talking about an eight year old and his three year old brother. They were gone all the time and Remy had to look after Virgil a lot as a baby.”

“It only got worse when Thomas was born,” Patton continued. “There were complications when their mom was pregnant and she was bedridden for the last three months. When he finally popped out, there were complications with his kidneys and it was touch and go for a while.

“He pulled through okay, but their mom and dad started smothering him instead. They were so scared of a relapse they changed their entire lives to revolve around him.”

“Which, again,” Roman added. “Great, as long as you do it to all three kids.”

“Which they didn’t, I assume.” Logan said.

Patton smiled sadly. “First he had to practically raise Virgil, then he had to watch all the care they should have gotten go to their little brother. It’s a small wonder he doesn’t still resent them, honestly.”

“Didn’t help that our Dark and Stormy Knight went undiagnosed so long,” Roman said.

He rested his head on the table morosely. “He didn’t even know that having a daily panic attack wasn’t normal until he was… what seventeen?”

Patton nodded. “He couldn’t understand why Remy didn’t see all the danger. And Remy didn’t understand what he was always so worked up about. Thomas just got annoyed about how everyone was either smothering him or ignoring him altogether. Remy moved out when Thomas was ten and basically stopped talking to them.”

Logan frowned. “If they went through of all that, how did they get to their current level of familiarity?”

Roman sighed. “Well Virgil got diagnosed, for one. Started on anxiety meds and learned some coping mechanisms. That helped but…”

He trailed off, looking away from Logan and off into space.

“Virgil got in a bad relationship,” Patton said quietly. “Like really, really bad. They had him convinced that he was toxic and that the world was better off without him. It took… ages for us all to convince him otherwise. And he still has relapses sometimes.”

“The scoundrel talked him into pushing everyone away,” Roman said, voice softer than Logan had ever heard it. “We didn’t know him at the time but from what we’ve been told… it was bad.”

“Thomas and Remy were part of the everyone,” Patton said. “Well really, the only everyone at that point. Remy didn’t care anymore, but Thomas kept pushing. When Virgil’s ex found out…”

“You found them, actually,” Roman said. “I don’t know the full story, but when you saw it going down, you punched the jerkwad in the face and took Virgil to the ER. Virgil got therapy, broke up with snake-face, and met all of our gorgeous selves.”

“My brother was his first therapist.” Patton said. “He had to switch after we started dating, but they became friends after a while, and then we met and Virgil told us the whole thing.”

“Patton was livid,” Roman said gleefully. “Honestly if I wasn’t in love before you punched Remy’s glasses off, I was falling pretty hard after.”

Patton blushed. “It was no biggie, really. No ones allowed to hurt my loved ones and get away with it. Besides, he needed the wakeup call.”

“He was being stupid,” Roman agreed. “But it was still hilarious to watch him scrabble for his sunglasses, only for you to pick him up by the scruff and dump him in a cafe chair!”

“They needed to talk!” Patton protested, face red. “And anyway, it worked, didn’t it?”

“We had to practically tie him down, but yeah.” Roman said.

“There we are then,” Patton declared. “Every dog has it’s day.”

Logan blinked. “I do not think you are using that phrase in the right context.”

“Live long and prosper.” Patton said.

“Also incorrect.”

Patton sighed. “Then may the force be with you, I’m just tired of thinking about violence.”

“Very well then,” Logan said. “Roman, I believe it is time for your ‘tragic backstory.’ What of your relationship with your siblings.”

Roman’s happy face darkened, as if Logan had flipped a light switch.

“The less I talk about those heteros the better.” He said. “I think I’m going to go watch some more cartoons.”

Logan watched as Roman slid out of his seat and slunk back to the living room. He turned to Patton inquisitively.

“Middle kid syndrome,” Patton said. “Worst case I’ve ever seen.”

“What happened?” Logan asked.

Patton shrugged. “This one’s not my place to say, really. But he hasn’t spoken to them in years. Like, long ones. I don’t think they even know he likes guys.”

Logan started. “But… weren’t- was there not a wedding planned?”

Patton sighed. “He didn’t tell them. Like I said, they haven’t spoken since… I think since he started college.”

“Wow.” Logan said. “That is certainly a long time.”

Patton hummed his agreement. “I’m just glad I have Emile. I really lucked out on getting a good big brother.”

“I think I prefer my own situation,” Logan said. “Being an only child suits me just fine.”

Patton’s mouth twitched, as if he were about to argue, but whatever it was, he withheld from saying it.

“On the topic of families,” He said instead. “Have your parents called back yet? I know something came up, but I need to know when to dust the guest room.”

Logan felt himself frown, brow creasing.

“Not as of yet,” He answered. “However not much time has passed so I am certain they will return my call soon.”

Patton nodded absently. “Okay. If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“Alright, alright,” Patton said. “Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Why don’t you go watch TV with Roman?”

“As I believe he’s sulking, I would vastly prefer to return to my room,” Logan informed him. “Please call for me when the meal is finished.”

**

Logan sat at the desk in his room, trying to mull over the new information he’d learned.

It seemed like they were telling the truth about Virgil’s history, at least. And to have undergone all of that… Well, Virgil was either the strongest person alive or the most twisted. And given what Damien had told him he was inclined to believe the latter.

His phone buzzed, making an awful sound on the wood desk, and Logan scooped it up.

Faus: Are they annoying you yet?

Logan winced in spite of himself. Damien had protested against him moving back in with the three men. He’d railed against Logan, saying that he wouldn’t be able to see their manipulations because it was all emotion based, and everyone knew Logan didn’t have any.

Neither of them could see a way out of it without seeming rude, though, so eventually his friend relented. On the condition that if everything became too much, Logan would call and move to Damien’s house.

Hesitantly, Logan typed out a reply.

Me: Not particularly. Virgil’s older brother stopped by and took him out for a manicure. It was loud, and a bit brash, but nothing unusual.

Faus: Ick. Sounds mushy.

Faus: I don’t think I ever met V’s brother. What’s he like?

Me: Think of Roman, but if Roman carried brand name coffee everywhere, wore sunglasses indoors, and called everyone “gurl.”

Faus: Lol. So Roman if he were basic?

Me: I’m unfamiliar with the term.

Faus: Why must you make everything so hard on me, Logan?

Me: I apologize, it was not my intention.

Faus: Yeah, yeah, whatever.

Faus: Anyway, does this addition to the family tree change your mine any?

Faus: *mind

Logan paused, debating. Remy seemed nice enough. Especially if he had been able to repair his relationship with Virgil and Thomas. It was admirable to admit your own failings, and even more so to grow from them. You didn’t need emotions to understand that.

He seemed to be such a good brother now, as well. In the two minutes Logan had seen of him, he’d seemed to raise Virgil’s dour mood without doing much beyond being himself.

It made part of Logan’s chest ache and wish he’d had siblings of his own, but that part of him was easily dismissed.

A sibling would just derail his studying, after all, and his parents hadn’t needed another child when the one they had was already perfect. True he wasn’t a lawyer like them, but he was otherwise their perfect copy. Emotionless and logical and robotic. Perfect.

Logan shook his head and typed another reply to Damien.

Me: Not in particular. I only talked with him briefly before he dragged Virgil out the door. However I was able to glean a good deal of information from the discussion afterwards. The most strange of which is that the discussion of siblings made Roman upset for reasons yet unknown. I am… unsure if I should press the issue.

Faus: Probably, but not tonight.

Faus: You’ve done pretty good at sniffing out Virgil’s past, so you’ve earned a break tonight.

Logan frowned at the implications of that statement. Damien hadn’t hired him for a spy service.. Or any service really. Still, what did he know of human relationships? It was probably normal in most eyes.

Part of him, a rebellious, illogical part, glowed at the praise. He snuffed it out as quickly as he could.

Me: Thank you.

Faus: :^)

Faus: Okay, I’ll let you go now. Talk soon!

Me: Farewell.

“Girls!” Shouted a voice downstairs, snapping Logan from his thoughts. “Everyone look at our nails, they are on fleek!”

Logan sighed, frowning down at the papers he’d been unable to fill out while texting Damien. Maybe he had time to at least start before-

“Logan, girl,” Remy called up the stairs. “You better get your nerdy butt down here and look at ‘em! Venti’s is on point and Pitter-Pat’s almost done with dinner, anyway!”

Logan huffed again and stood up from his desk.

At least it was only dinner.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else get that flavor of writer’s block where they write almost ten pages of nothing happening? Cause for whatever reason this chapter did not want to add to the plot beyond the three bits I had worked out before writing it. Ugh. 
> 
> Warnings: Deceit, nat, but avoid the bolded text and you should be fine. Car crash, but that’s in italics. Google-translated spanish.

Logan was resting peacefully on the couch, mystery book in hand. He wasn’t entirely sure when he got there, just that he’d been there most of the morning and had little to no inclination to move.

Unfortunately, a long weight settled on the back of the couch and groaned dramatically.

Not looking up from his novel, Logan asked the weight what it wanted.

“Everyone’s busy.” The weight complained. “V̸̷i͟͠͝͞r̶͜҉҉gi͘͘͟͞ļ͞ is novel writing, ̡̡̧̕ P̢̧̢͡a̢͝ţ̶̸͟͝t̴̵̢o̸̡̢͝n҉̵ is off at work, and here you are novel reading. I am in a romantic mood and all of my boyfriends have decided to spend the day being unromancable.”

“That is not a word.” Logan said.

“You’re not a word.” The weight retorted.

Logan rolled his eyes fondly, still not removing them from his novel.

“If you like, you may spend a few minutes romancing me.” He said.

Half of the weight vanished, indicating the one behind him had sat up.

“You mean it?” They asked.

Logan nodded. “As long as it does not interfere with my reading, I take no issue with it. I am at a rather suspenseful moment in the book and I do not wish to put it down, however, I know how V̵̶̷̕͜i͏̴͢r̨̧̡͞g̸̵̡i̸̸͢͜l̡̧ ̵҉͠ can be when he is writing and if you are truly that desprate to romance someone, I suppose I am the better choice, seeing as ̴̶̢͘͟P̨̧͡͝a҉̡͘t̢̕͞t̸̕o͏̶͞n̶̶ is out.”

The weight shifted, falling onto the empty couch next to him. Logan felt his free hand get taken into someone else’s and suppressed his lips twitching upwards.

“I take it that is a yes, then?” He asked.

The other person pressed his hand to their lips.

“Mi amor,” They murmured softly. “Tus ojos brillan con un vasto mar de conocimiento que no puedo comenzar a comprender. Incluso si me llevó toda la vida desentrañar tus pensamientos, no puedo pensar en una mejor manera de pasar mis años.”

Logan chuckled softly. “Spanish?”

“You know you love it.”

Logan hummed noncommittally. “Perhaps, but I am frustrated by not knowing what you are saying.”

“That’s half the fun!” They said, brushing a kiss to his palm. “Don’t deny the language of love mi bibliotecario.”

“I am a schoolteacher, ͡͠R̷̵̛o̸͠͏̛m҉̵̡̛͡ą̶̛n͠͝͏, not a librarian.”

The other person next to him sputtered, dropping his hand from their mouth.

“I- you- Who told?”

Logan shrugged. “I looked it up some time ago. Along with several other of your favorite nicknames for us. By the way, you might wish to tell your “pequeña nube de tormenta” that it just means “little storm cloud”. The last word is a little too close to tormentor and he has been quite anxious over its meaning.”

Silence hung over the other side of the couch, likely meaning his companion was pouting.

“Fine then!” They said at last. “I shall simply have to use another language, mon petit chaton.”

Logan smirked. “While I will admit French is a nice change of pace, I happen to know you only know that particular phrase from rewatching Barbie and the Three Musketeers repeatedly as a child.”

The person gasped. “How dare- You insuf- ugh!”

They threw his hand down, only to drape themselves over Logan’s lap. Logan lifted his book to give them space to do so, still intently reading his novel.

“I can’t win with you.” they groaned from his lap. “Everything I do simply has no effect on Mr. Logic-And-Reasoning. I give up.”

“I wouldn’t say it has no effect.” Logan hummed. “Just because I do not blush as easily as you does not mean I am unaffected.”

They scoffed. “I don’t that blush easily. I am a Prince, I make other’s blush I do not-”

Logan cut them off by lowering his book at looking directly into their eyes. He lowered his eyelids just enough to make his gaze the proper amount of sultry, while still letting them gaze into them.

“Oh really?” He asked, dropping his voice a few octaves and slurring just enough to make the words come out as a purr. “Please, do tell me how little you blush, my darling prince.”

He felt them shiver on top of his legs. He grasped their hand and brushed their fingers against his lips, gaze never leaving theirs.

“You know,” he said, still purring. “I always thought red was the most appealing color on you.”

“Okay! Okay!” they said, burying their beet red face in their hands. “I concur, I give up, I can’t take what I dish out just… stoooooooooop.”

Logan chuckled, looking back to his book.

“I hate you.” They said petulantly.

Logan gently brushed his fingers through their hair. “Really? Because recent evidence would seem to contradict your statement.”

“No I do.” They insisted. “With your stupid big words and your horrible good looks and your stupid eyes that make my knees weak.”

“At least one of those is an oxymoron.” Logan said. “Also you are beginning to sound like V̨͟͡i̶̡͡͡r͏͝g̶͢͡į͡l̵̢̛͏ ̧. However if you find my presence that troubling I can leave, I need some more coffee anyways and-”

“Noooooooooo.” They whined. “Don’t leaaaaaaaave meeeeeeee.”

Logan stifled a smirk and continued carding his fingers through their hair.

“If you insist. I shall continue reading, though. If you like you may turn on one of your cartoon shows and remain here.”

“You’re such a nerd.” They scoffed, reaching for the remote.

“I have no defense for that.” Logan admitted. “So instead I shall reply with a statement of yours from earlier. ‘You know you love it.’”

They blew a raspberry up at him, flicking through hulu to the desired cartoon.

“You aren’t helping your case, Specs.”

Logan shrugged, allowing a small smile to form on his lips. “Am I truly required to?”

They snuggled closer to him. “No, I guess not.”

The cartoon started up, a loud crash echoing through Logan’s head and the shattering of glass breaking his peaceful atmosphere.

He looked up into the eyes of the paramedics. They were urging him not to fall asleep. He was lying down though, isn’t sleep what people were supposed to do when they were lying down?

His eyes seemed to think so. They slid closed even as he tied to obey the people hovering above him.

There was a lot of light. Wasn’t it supposed to be nighttime? And why did the sun decide to flash red and blue? That wasn’t very scientific of it.

That was Logan’s last thought as he allowed his eyes to slip closed. Falling. Falling. Falling. Deep black unconsciousness. A void. Absent of all thought, feeling, and sensation.

…

Logan shot awake, panting for breath. He sat up and scrambled to switch on his bedside lamp. Once the light clicked on, Logan allowed himself to breathe.

The light was on. He wasn’t floating weightlessly in a two-year bout of unconsciousness. He was awake now. He was okay. He was okay.

He took a deep, shaky breath. He then pinched himself, just to remind his treacherous brain that he was awake now and that the scene before him would not shift again to the night of the crash. He grasped at the sheets, desperate for something, anything, to ground him in the here and now.

He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

A gentle knock sounded on his door.

“Logan?” Patton asked, sounding groggy. “You okay?”

“I… I am well, Patton.” He answered, trying to keep the tremors from his voice. “I had a troubling dream, that’s all.”

Patton paused again. “Wanna talk about it?”

Logan shook his head, even though he knew Patton couldn’t see it.

“No.” He said. “I… It is nothing new. I am capable of handling it alone.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to.” Patton protested, even though Logan could hear the sleep leaking through his voice.

“I will be fine, Patton, please return to your bed and get some rest.”

He heard Patton sigh, followed by a long period of silence. After a few minutes he assumed Patton did as he said, and leaned back against his pillows. Slowly, he reached out for the stiffest one and wrapped his arms around it.

Sleep returned to him slowly after that.

***

“Emile invited us over for dinner.” Patton said.

Logan looked up from his breakfast, raising an eyebrow.

“That is your brother, yes?” He asked.

Patton nodded. “Yup. He and his husband finally worked out their schedules to have us all over! It should be a real treat, too. A bit noisy, but that’s just how it is, you know?”

Logan blinked and cast a glance at Virgil, who was slowly trying to melt into his chair.

“Exactly how many people will be there?” Logan asked carefully.

“Well,” Patton hummed. “There’s the four of us, Emile and David, and their three kiddos. So… nine.”

Logan winced. “That is… a lot of people.”

Patton smiled softly. “I don’t know if it helps any, but Emile is a therapist. And he knows about the amnesia. He won’t press you to remember anything.”

Logan nodded slowly. “That helps… some. I would like a bit of time to think over it, if you would not mind.”

Patton nodded. “Take your time. I can make you dinner before hand if you don’t want to come.”

Logan felt his lips twitch at Patton’s unmitigated kindness. “Thank you.”

He cleaned up his dishes and returned to his room. He picked up his phone, biting his lip and hesitating. He let out a sharp breath, mildly irritated.

Contact his friend should not bring about such nervousness. He didn’t get nervous, and even if he did Damien was nothing to be nervous about. He was the only person who hadn’t seen Logan’s lack of emotions as off-putting. In fact, he had said many times that it was to his advantage.

So why was the thought of texting him making Logan’s gut twist?

He shook his head forcefully and started typing.

Me: How much do you know about Patton’s brother? We’ve been invited over to dinner and I require more information in order to make an assessment.

Faus: Ugh.

Faus: You’re so high maintenance.

Me: Apologies.

Faus: Whatever.

Faus: I don’t actually know that much about E. Picani. If he’s anything like his brother he’s probably a dolt and an idiot, though.

Me: I hardly think that is the case. Even disregarding how different siblings often are, I hardly think that Patton is an idiot. He has showcased his intellect on many occasions. Not to mention that it takes a great deal of skill to emotionally manipulate someone without emotions, which you have said all three of them are doing. Even beyond that, Patton said his brother is a therapist, which is a field that is made rather difficult if you are an idiot.

Faus: Are you really contradicting me rn?

Faus: You don’t remember anything that went down in the last five years, Logan. Therefore you wouldn’t really know if Patton was stupid, would you?

Faus: Think of it scientifically: Your sample size is too small for a good reading. Best to leave it to someone with more experience and data. Wouldn’t you say?

…

Me: I suppose.

Me: You are right, I apologize.

Faus: I forgive you, Logos. You’re just a little confused, is all.

Faus: ;^) Lucky you’ve got me!

Me: Yes.

Logan set his phone down, releasing another breath. Damien had clarified nothing but Logan’s own idiocy, and now… Logan felt like he had less information than he started with, which he was nigh certain was impossible.

He ran a hand down his face.

Damien was right about his sample size, though. It wasn’t nearly as big as the amount of experience his friend had had with his supposed fiancees. So perhaps there was wisdom in widening that sampling.

Logan nodded to himself slowly, making up his mind.

He walked back down to the kitchen and gently addressed Patton.

“Um, I believe I shall accompany you all to the dinner.” He said. “It may be beneficial to retrieving my memory in the long term.”

Patton beamed at him. “You mean it? Oh that’s wonderful! Thank you so much, Logan. Oh, I’ve got to call Emile, he’ll be so happy!”

Logan felt himself grimace. Perhaps this wasn’t the best decision, after all.

***

Logan’s suspicions were confirmed as soon as they entered through the door. Immediately Patton was tackled by a blur of red overalls, which launched themselves at his shoulders. They stuck, surprisingly, and Patton laughed.

“How’s my favorite niece doing?” He asked.

The blur reared back it’s head, revealing a head of messy green hair and a smile of teeth that almost seemed too sharp.

“I’m great!” She declared. “Papa said we could have cake tonight if I don’t track anymore pine needles into the living room, so I made sure not to let them leave my room all day!”

Patton laughed. “Oh really? That’s amazing!”

Roman pouted a little. “But where is the fierce dragon for me to slay?”

The niece launched herself at Roman and he staggered at her sudden weight.

“Dad said dragons have to stay in the backyard.” She chirped. “But we can slay him after cake.”

“Nikki,” another voice scolded. “You could have at least waited until everyone was through the door.”

A man rounded the corner, eyes betraying how amused he really was with their twinkle.

He looked quite a bit like Patton, though he was a few inches shorter, and had a few more graying hairs around his temples. The most noticable difference, however, was that whereas Patton was muscle-bound and the very definition of a gentle giant, with kind eyes that contradicted his tick arms, this man had soft edges and an intelligent glint in his eyes that offset his round belly. 

He walked up to Patton and embraced him.

“Patty,” He exclaimed. “Do you how do?”

Logan blinked in bewilderment at the odd phrase but Patton just laughed.

“Better been good,” He said. “But better getting time all the.”

Logan was even more confused than when he agreed to the dinner. Virgil noticed and leaned closer to him.

“Emile’s obsessed with cartoons,” He explained. “I think that either comes from one, or they just made up a language as kids. Jury’s out, honestly. Only Roman can even halfway understand it.”

Logan flashed him a grateful smile and watched as Emile engulfed the rest of them in hugs. First Roman, then Virgil. He hesitated when he got to Logan before smiling and offering a hand instead.

Logan shook it and Emile’s smile widened.

“Well,” He said. “I’m glad you’re all here! The kiddo’s were starting to get antsy, and dinner’s almost ready.”

Patton smiled at his brother and hummed doubtfully. “And which one of you made it?”

Emile laughed nervously. “Well I tried to help, but David insisted on-”

“Nope.” Patton cut him off and strode down the entrance. “David, clear out, I have a dinner to save!”

Virgil and Roman laughed while Emile sighed.

Logan frowned. “That seemed uncharacteristically harsh of him.”

Emile shrugged. “Not really. My husband is a talented person, but he has literally burned water. More than once. Patton may be our only saving grace here if we actually want homemade food tonight.”

Logan considered this and listened to the sharp cries of children yelling for Patton to ‘get him, Uncle Pat!’ and ‘show him how it’s done!’

Virgil and Roman chuckled and followed Emile into the kitchen, Logan close behind.

Patton was firmly chiding a lean, red headed man away from the stove. This seemed to delight the two other children in the kitchen, who were borderline cackling. One of them, who had a bushel of black hair to rival an actual bush, was nearly falling off the counter in laughter.

“Max, get down from there while the stove is off,” Emile scolded.

Max jumped off, still giggling. The red headed man, David presumably, turned to Emile with a pout.

“I’m being kicked out of my own kitchen!” He said, almost sounding distressed.

Emile chuckled and pecked his cheek. “It’s okay, hon. I still think you’re pan-tastic.”

The third kid, this one in a sweater, groaned loudly.

“Please no,” They said. “Anything but the puns, please.”

“Hey, our puns are pun-derful!” Patton said. “They may not be the greatest but they get bi.”

The kid groaned again and Logan winced.

“Cease and desist, please.” He said.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Logan?” Patton asked. “Do your socks have holes in them?”

Logan squinted at him. “No, they do not.”

“Then how’d you get your feet through ‘em?” Emile finished with a big smile.

Logan shuddered and turned to Virgil sharply.

“Get me out of here, please. I need to leave.”

The kid in the sweater patted his arm sympathetically.

“I don’t know who you are, but you just became my favorite uncle.” They said. “Name’s Elliot, by the way.”

“Logan.” Logan said, shaking their hand. “Pleasure to make the acquaintance of someone else who has a moniker of sanity.”

“Uh, yeah.” Elliot faltered. “Same.”

Emile came up behind them and squished Elliot’s cheeks together.

“Aren’t they just the cutest?” Emile gushed. “They’re my precious baby child and I love them so much. Did you know they scored first in their spelling bee last month?”

“Papa, please,” Elliot said around their cheeks. “You don’t need to tell everyone that.”

“Yes I do.” Emile said. “It’s an incredible accomplishment.”

“It’s a spelling bee.” Elliot deadpanned.

“Any accomplishment is a step towards the future,” Logan said. “No matter how small it appears to be.”

Emile grinned. “See?”

Elliot squirmed out of his grasp. “Ugh, maybe you aren’t my favorite uncle.”

Logan chuckled and Virgil came up next to them, Max on his shoulders. He ruffled Elliot’s hair affectionately.

“It’s okay,” He said. “We can all be your favorite uncles.”

Max yanked on Virgil’s hair roughly. “No, idiot. You’re mine, and I don’t plan on sharing.”

Virgil unhooked his hands with a small laugh. “Alright, alright. Whatever you say, Devil-Dog. You can have me, Nikki can have Ro, and Elliot can have Logan.”

Nikki nodded sagely from Roman’s shoulders. “Such is the way of the universe.”

***

The rest of the evening went surprisingly well. Patton managed to save whatever David had been trying to make, and it was as tasty as the rest of Patton’s food.

He got to know the other Picanis as well. As it turned out, David was also a teacher, and was able to give him a few ideas on how to break back into the business. Most of it would only be useful with small children, or if and when Logan regained his memory, but there was a gray area of information that would actually prove useful.

The dinner was, surprisingly, uneventful. The strangest thing that happened was the distinct feeling in Logan’s stomach that he’d done it all before. Seen the house and the people, eaten the food, heard the conversation.

It doubled in power whenever Patton and Emile finished each others jokes, which was, unfortunately often. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Logan protested, that only seemed to fuel their wonton need to give him pain.

Eventually, it was time to go, though the thought of leaving made something ache in Logan’s chest. Emile hugged everyone as they parted, which, despite his protests, seemed to include Logan.

He was enveloped in the elder Picani’s embrace before he could think of a logical reason he shouldn’t be. It was… warm, in a word. It was full of something that Logan couldn’t adequately describe. He was so lost in the sensation it was almost jarring when Emile started talking.

“Don’t let anyone fool you, Lo-lo,” Emil whispered. “There’s no rush to heal, and at the end of the day there may not be a need. Those guys over there are gonna stick by your side no matter what. So whatever happens, they’ll be there for you.”

Logan stiffened, not sure how to react or if he even should. Before he could gather his thoughts Emile gave him one final squeeze and pulled away. He gave Logan a small smile and turned back to Patton.

“Great you having!” He said cheerfully. “Again come soon!”

Patton beamed at his brother. “Do will. Love you, Emi!”

“Love you too, Pattycake!” Emile said.

Logan woodenly followed the other three out the door, pausing just before walking out of it. He took a deep breath and turned back to Emile.

A million words passed through his head. Knowledge and the lack of it, questions, answers, thanks, and some… thing he couldn’t describe. He opened his mouth to try and say one of them, but nothing came out.

Luckily, Emile seemed to understand anyway.

He smiled softly. “See you soon.”

Logan let his shoulders slump and he gave Emile a small smile. He nodded and walked out the door.

***

Faus: Don’t tell me you’re rethinking things.

Faus: Logos, dear, we’ve talked about this.

Faus: Those idiots are only going to manipulate you. Once your where they want you, they’ll drop the act and you’ll be left on the street.

Faus: I’m not picking up the pieces again, I’ve already been through losing you. I am giving you every possible warning. If you still insist on choosing those fools instead of logic and reason than I think I’m better off cycling through the five stages of grief.

Me: I am not choosing anyone, Dolos.

Me: Nor anything for that matter.

Me: At least, not yet. This evening has put a great many things into perspective.

Faus: Oh I get it.

Faus: Prof. Articuno is so emotionless he has to leech off of other people’s just for the idea of family.

Me: That’s not

Me: I rather resent that comment.

Faus: Sorry it made you feel bad.

Me: I

Me: I don’t feel. You have always been rather… understanding of that.

Faus: Teasing, jeez!! X^D

Me: Ah.

Me: My apologies.

Faus: Accepted.

Faus: Anyway, I’m gonna be busy in a couple days, so don’t text me then.

Faus: Else I’ll have to kill you, haha.

Me: Amusing.

Me: But understood nonetheless.

Faus: Bye!

Me: Farewell.

Faus: Oh, and Logos? Just remember: nothing they say about you is true. You are as intelligent and ruthless as you always have been. :^) I’m glad I’m your friend.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adasdfk Evidently chapters nine and ten got swapped. My bad, but I don't think it makes that much of a difference? Letmeknowifi'mwrong.

One thing Logan had learned during the months he’d been with his supposed fiancees was how to waste time. Roman and Patton were often gone during the day for work, and Virgil was often locked in his room at odd hours. He’d asked after that and had been informed that the deadline for his sequel was rapidly approaching and he was having to double down.

Between the three of them they weren’t hurting for money, but it meant Logan had a lot of free time on his hands. Something he was rapidly growing to hate.

Months in the hospital with nothing to do had made him restless and moving into a small house with rarely anyone in it hadn’t changed much beyond his mobility, the frequency of interaction, and what was on the television.

It was frustrating, and he was itching for something to do.

It didn’t help that the university he had been employed at had politely said that he would be welcomed back after he made a full recovery. Translation: He had to recover his memory before he had his job back.

He understood. After all he didn’t remember the schooling he’d had and would be a rather useless professor if he didn’t know what he was teaching. But that understanding did not equate to soothing his boredom.

The fact that his wakeful hours had increased wasn’t helping. Whenever he managed to close his eyes his sleep was full of an unholy mixture of good dreams he could barely remember and nightmares he could recall with perfect clarity.

He couldn’t tell which was worse, but the combination kept him prying his eyes open for as long as he could manage.

As such, he would often elect to spend his sleepless nights in the kitchen, peacefully sipping on his coffee. There was something about the stillness of the house at midnight that seemed to chase away Logan’s bad thoughts. It was a delicate sort of quiet, as if any slight disturbance would shatter everything about it.

Logan closed his eyes thoughtfully, idly wondering if that sort of idea would make a decent poem.

A small cough interrupted his thoughts and he looked up. A large silhouette was framed in the doorway, the lack of light obscuring it’s caster. It may have been intimidating if Logan had not recognized it.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Patton asked, voice quiet.

Logan shook his head. He hoped to goodness Patton wouldn’t turn the lights on, he’d worked on adjusting his eyesight for hours.

Luckily, Patton seemed to understand that. Instead of reaching for the light switch, he crossed to the stove. The room lit up dimly as he turned on a burner and set the tea kettle on top of it.

Logan watched as he spooned powder from a tin into two mugs and then mixed in a few more spices. By the time that was done the kettle was near whistling and Patton removed it from heat, carefully filling the mugs with the hot water.

Logan was momentarily blinded as Patton opened the fridge, regaining his vision just in time to watch Patton stir in the milk. He closed his eyes when Patton reached for the door a second time.

His task done, Patton sat across from him and handed him a mug. Logan frowned and pulled his coffee closer. Patton simply tutted and plucked it out of his hands as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Logan scowled at him, even though he knew Patton likely couldn’t see it through the darkness.

“You don’t need any caffeine this late,” Patton explained. “It’ll only make things worse.”

“And as a substitution you’ve made me…”

“Hot chocolate. My Mama’s recipe too, so you know it’s good.”

Logan sniffed at the cup. “It does not smell like the hot chocolate I am used to. What’s in it?”

Patton shrugged. “Usual stuff. Plus some nutmeg and cinnamon. I would’ve made it with milk instead of water but we’re almost out.

Logan’s mouth twitched and he took a sip.

It was as if Christmas had exploded in his mouth. As if someone had taken an army of gingerbread men, coated them in chocolate, and then liquefied them. Then captured their souls shortly after entering heaven, liquidized those, and put it all in a mug.

Okay, maybe Logan liked sweets after all.

He swallowed. “It is adequate.”

Patton chuckled. “Thought you’d like it. It’s a late night special here at Casa de Sanders.”

Logan cocked his head to one side. “Only Sanders?”

“Yeah, that’s… well that’s the name we were gonna take,” Patton explained with a shrug. “There’s four of us you know. It’s a lot of hyphens. But we also didn’t want to just not change our names, me because I thought it was romantic, you and Roman for… personal reasons. Virgil didn’t care one way or the other so after he and Remy made up we all settled on taking his name.”

Logan snorted and took another mouthful of hot cocoa. “I see. And is this how you come to every decision? Wait for things to settle down and go with apathy?”

“No,” Patton said, surprisingly undefensive. “Normally we argue until somebody creates a compromise.”

Logan chuckled. “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Logan was half done with his mug before his curiosity pressed him into action.

“What are you doing up at this hour, anyway?” He asked. “I would think you need a full night’s rest the way those children run you ragged.”

“Andy and Christa are sweethearts,” Patton protested. “They only run me ragged because I don’t have the energy of an eight year old, let alone her five year old brother! And anyway, I could ask you the same question, kiddo.”

Logan stiffened, electing not to answer.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” Patton asked. “Is the bed too hard? Or the room too cold? I know we leave it on the cold side at night but with three bodies in one bed, and one of them being Roman, it can-”

“It’s not that,” Logan interrupted. “I mean… it is. However those are not the reasons behind it.”

Patton was silent, likely waiting for him to continue. Logan took a deep breath and another swig of his cocoa.

“The world behind my eyelids has been unkind, as of late,” He explained. I have never been one to dream before, but now… now my head is filled with visions of what might have once been and what definitely transpired. The worst part is that I seem to know that only some of it is real, and I have no idea which is which.

“But based on the repeating patterns… I would say it is likely the flash of an ambulance that’s real. The ringing in my ears as the world turns black. The sharp glass everywhere in sight, the slick feeling of a wet leather seat underneath me. The… shrieking of metal on metal and the crashing of glass. They never come all together, nor do I ever view more than a passing moment, but I am no fool. I am well aware of the night they add up to, even if I know little else beyond it.”

His mug was empty now, and he clutched it. He was almost certain that if it wasn’t almost pitch-black in the kitchen right now his knuckles would be white.

A hand gently encircled his own. Large and calloused but nonetheless gentle.

“The crash.” Patton said simply.

There was no question in his voice, no need for further inquiry. It was a simple statement of fact.

“I honestly wish that I remembered anything else,” Logan said quietly. “A fight, a failed test, anything. I can think of little else that would be worse than seeing my own possible demise every time my eyes close.”

Patton gently rubbed a circle into his hand, for once not offering any words of comfort. Perhaps he knew that there were none.

Logan swallowed hard, letting himself give in to the moment for one second. Letting the warmth of Patton’s hand flow through him. Allowed their contact to push back the images in his head.

Like a train to the face, he was hit with the sudden feeling that he’d… done this before. That he’d previously been in this exact spot, with all these exact factors in play. Which was… improbable at best.

He hadn’t- he wasn’t- It was improbable that everything that was around him right now had happened before. Patton, the cocoa, the mug, the silent comfort it all offered from the horrors in his mind. And yet it felt-

Logan stood abruptly, startling Patton who withdrew his hand.

“Thank you very much for the hot ch- for the beverage, Patton.” He said stiffly. “It was sufficient. I believe we had both be heading to our rooms now.”

“Yeah,” Patton said quietly. “Yes… of course.”

Logan nodded sharply and headed for the stairwell.

“Hey, Lo-Lo?”

He paused, waiting for Patton to continue whatever useless drivel he was about to say that insisted he use that pointless nickname.

“Sweet dreams.”

Logan lingered, stopping in the stairway for the breadth of a heartbeat.

“You as well, Patton.”

He headed up the stairs, more slowly than he’d originally planned. He sent Damien a quick text before crashing onto his bed.

He hugged a pillow to his chest, bed suddenly seeming cold and empty after the warmth that had filled the kitchen. No matter. It was merely the wild thoughts of a sleep-deprived mind. A little rest and they would leave him alone.

…Possibly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much easier to write, lol. A small break with some almost plotless fluff. My jam. <3
> 
> Warnings: Car crash mention, but it’s pretty brief. Nightmares, and a brief panic about those nightmares (that’s the big chunk of text if you wanna skip it).

One thing they’d all figured out about Logan was that it was extremely hard to get him out of his room for any extended period of time. He was absolutely stubborn about it, and resolutely avoided them most of the time.

Luckily, the three of them had years of experience on their side. As usual, all it took was three notes of the Doctor Who theme and their resident nerdlord would materialize in the recliner.

It was funny, really. So much had changed, and yet so little.

And yet, just like always, the episode Sleep No More put him to sleep, which was ironic, but in this case that was the goal.

Patton had mentioned a few days ago that Logan hadn’t been sleeping well, and Virgil had his own theories on why. Nevertheless, the three of them formed a plan to get him a little more rest.

Phase one: they mysteriously ran out of coffee. It was blamed on Roman and his penchant for late nights, but in reality, Patton had hidden it in the back of the top cabinet behind a few jars. Just out of sight, but not really hidden so that Patton could “find” it later and apologize to Roman.

Phase two: about mid afternoon, they turned on Doctor Who. Not the target episode, as that would raise Logan’s suspicious or make him avoid coming down altogether until it passed. But it was queued to play after a few, more enjoyable, less suspicious episodes.

Logan was in the recliner before the title theme finished. All according to keikaku.

Phase three: Patton made them all steamed tea halfway through the second episode. Earl grey, lots of honey, and paired with his famous Crofter’s flavored thumbprint cookies. They all pretended not to notice when Logan ate half the plate.

Phase four: Roman had turned the thermostat down before they started. Around the end of the third episode, Logan started shivering. Which led to Roman draping a blanket over him and being dramatic until he accepted it.

Logan was ultimately huffy about it, but let the quilt settle around his shoulders anyway. Virgil was… no longer an expert, but he could see Logan’s eyelids drooping every so slightly.

Phase five: the episode Sleep No More played.

Logan was out like a light a third of the way through. And Roman wasn’t far behind him.

Patton chuckled as the episode came to a close. Roman was curled up like a cat in his lap, fast asleep and evidently not that intent on moving.

Patton, however, seemed to take that as a challenge. He scooped Roman into his arms, and gave Virgil a small smile.

“I’m gonna take this one up to bed,” He whispered. “You okay watching documentaries for a while?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean yeah. Anything to keep Logan asleep a little longer.”

Patton’s smile widened and he stood, Roman still in his arms. He took Roman upstairs to their shared bedroom and, knowing Roman’s tendency to cling in his sleep, he probably wouldn’t be back down until they were both awake.

So he was stuck watching documentaries until Logan’s eyes didn’t need a bag check.

Virgil chuckled quietly to himself. Phase six: watch something boring, but that provides enough background noise that Logan won’t wake up. For example: A two hour long documentary on horses. Hooray.

Ten minutes in and he was on his phone. Tumblr was an excellent distraction from the mating rituals of the great Clystadle. Such a good distraction, in fact, that he almost missed the sounds Logan was making.

He turned, more than a little concerned. Which grew into a lot of concerned when he saw Logan’s face.

His forehead was beaded with sweat and his eyes kept twitching, as if he was following something with them. Something very fast. His hands were balled up in the quilt, holding on for dear life.

Virgil was at his side instantly, but once he got there all reason about what to do flew out the window. Were you allowed to wake someone up from a nightmare or was that just night terrors? Was that even night terrors or was it just a myth? Would it be better to risk it? He didn’t want Logan suffering, especially if he was right here. Or would Logan suffer more if he woke him up? Was it better to play it safe? Was not waking him up playing it safe? Was Logan safe? Virgil had never heard of someone dying from a nightmare before but it couldn’t be good for their mental health.

Just when he was about to panic and google it, Logan surged upwards, eyes open and wide. He looked around wildly for a minute, chest heaving, but Virgil could tell no air was actually circulating.

Virgil slowly put a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, but Virgil just held up his hands in surrender.

“It’s okay,” He said quietly. “It’s okay, I promise. Can I touch you?”

Logan nodded stiffly. Moving slowly, Virgil put a hand over Logan’s and brought it to his chest, before putting the other on Logan’s.

“I’m gonna breath for a little bit,” Virgil said. “Can you do that with me?”

Another stiff nod. Virgil took it as encouragement.

“In for four seconds. Hold for seven seconds. Out for eight seconds. Good, that’s good. Keep going, okay? In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.”

They sat like that for a few minutes, until Logan was calm again. Once he was breathing properly Virgil let his hands go slack and Logan wormed out of his grip. He pulled his knees up to his chest and they were both silent for a long time.

“Does that happen a lot?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought about it, then shrugged. “Never as bad as that. This one was… particularly intense.”

“It’s the crash, isn’t it.”

Logan turned to him, surprise evident on his face. Virgil shrugged.

“People have been messed up over less,” He said. “Frankly you’d have to be inhuman to walk away from that without some mental scars.”

Logan scoffed. “I have been accused of such things.”

“Yeah, but accusations don’t make it true.” Virgil said simply. “If accusing someone of something made it true, Hollywood would be out of business.”

Logan chuckled. “Well… I suppose that is true. Thank you.”

Virgil smiled. “No problem.”

He stood, ready to let Logan be and go back to his phone, only to be stopped by a hand on his wrist. He turned back, a little surprised.

Logan looked back up at him, the shadow of fear still hiding behind his eyes.

“Please,” He said, voice smaller than Logan’s ever had a right to be. “I- I know it’s illogical. But I real-really do not want to be alone right now.”

Virgil softened.

“Okay,” He said. “But let’s move to the couch, okay? There’s only room for one in that chair.”

Logan’s face flooded with gratitude and he let Virgil take him to the couch. He even hesitantly let himself lean against Virgil, and Virgil took the opportunity to run his hands through Logan’s hair. It was the one part of the “get Logan to sleep” plan they hadn’t been able to act on.

Luckily, it still made Logan melt like butter. He relaxed more fully into Virgil’s side and let out a barely-audible hum of contentment.

“I honestly hate that chair,” Virgil confessed quietly, more to keep Logan from bolting than to strike up a conversation. “It used to belong to one of Patton’s moms, but she gave it to us after we moved in together as a housewarming gift.”

Logan hummed again, a little groggier than last time.

Virgil smirked. “Honestly I think she just wanted to get rid of it. The thing’s broken beyond all belief. We barely had it for a week before the inside bits gave out. It’s still upright, somehow, but it won’t recline half the time. Most of us absolutely hate it. Course, every time we talk about getting rid of it, Patton suddenly can’t sleep anywhere else. He says it’s a comfort thing, but I think he’s just sentimental. Wouldn’t be the first time, you know?”

The light buzz of a snore was his only answer. Virgil glanced at Logan, who was now happily tucked into his side, peacefully asleep.

Virgil smirked again and flipped off the documentary. Logan wasn’t waking up anytime soon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) I :) hurt :) myself :) writing :) this :) I :) am :) in :) so :) much :) P A I N :))))))))))))))))) 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Also a small side note: I think it’s important to mention that I have Roman down as 5′1″ in my reference notes. Just to give you an idea of how some of the stuff in this chapter plays out. He does wear five inch heels pretty often tho.) 
> 
> Warnings: implied PTSD, Arguments, short tempers, non-pysical fighting, car crash mention, abuse mention, coma mention, stabbing mention, but it’s directed at spiders, spiders.

A scream echoed through the house, making Logan immediately launch to his feet. He ran to the kitchen, reaching the doorway just in time to see Roman stabbing a small spider with a large kitchen knife.

Roman nodded grimly at the bug’s corpse and walked over to the countertop Patton had jumped onto.

Logan watched the shorter man soothe the six foot five giant off of the kitchen counter with a touch of amusement. When Patton finally did get down he nearly had to fold in half to let Roman envelope him in a hug.

It was endearing, honestly. And an almost familiar sight, both in the sense that he had seen them do this countless times since his waking and in that strange form of nostalgia he was beginning to grow used to.

For one moment, Logan allowed himself to smile.

And then his phone rang.

He jolted, not realizing he’d brought the device down with him, but he answered it all the same.

“Hello?” He asked. “Who is this?”

“Caller ID doesn’t exist,” Damien said through heavy breaths. “I don’t recommend you use it.”

Logan blinked in surprise. “Damien. You do not usually call me.”

He ignored the way both Roman and Patton’s heads snapped to him at the mention of his friend’s name. Though he did shuffle a little farther out of the room.

“Is something the matter?” He asked, voice a bit quieter than it just had been.

“No,” Damien said. “I didn’t just get beat up by over twenty-five people.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Twenty-five? Wh- did they remove anything from your person?”

“It was certainly a mugging, I wasn’t left with anything.” Damien said, though his voice sounded pained. “Would you… be unable to lend me a hand?”

Logan almost nodded before remembering Damien couldn’t see him. “Yes of course. I am unable to drive myself but if you send me some form of address I should be able to accompany someone who can.”

“Perfect.” Damien snarled. “I won’t text you then.”

“Very well. See you soon.” Logan hung up and tentatively turned to the other two. “Patton would you… be willing to drive me somewhere?”

Patton swallowed hard, but nodded.

***

It was a tense silence to the address Damien had given him. Patton’s eyes were fixed on the road and his mind seemed so far away that Logan was loathe to break the quiet.

When they found Damien on the roadside he was bloody and bruised. It truly looked as if twenty-five people had gone to town on him, each taking a turn to punch him in the nose. Mostly because his nose was almost certainly broken by looks of it.

Logan loaded him into the backseat and they drove back to the house in an even more tension-filled silence.

Virgil and Roman were on the couch when they walked through the door. Virgil was huddled in the corner of it with Roman’s arms wrapped around him. Roman was glaring daggers, though as Logan had Damien in his arms, he wasn’t sure who the daggers were meant for.

He ignored all of them in favor of taking Damien to his room and treating his injuries. It didn’t take long, and Damien was asleep by the time he applied the last bandage. Which unfortunately meant it was time to face the others.

He crept down the stairs, wary of drawing any further attention to himself before it was absolutely necessary. He needn’t have bothered. Roman was practically in his face the moment his foot left the last step.

“What is he doing here?” He hissed. “What are you doing talking to him? Don’t you know who he is? What he’s done?”

Logan returned his glare coldly. “No. I do not. If there is any history between the three of you and him I remain unaware of it.”

Roman lips twisted into a snarl. “No you aren’t. We told you. Virgil’s ex? The horrible one whose name doesn’t even deserve to be spoken? We told you about him.”

Logan huffed. “Well seeing as you did not mention his name, I was hardly able to know that Damien was the ex in question.”

“What? Did he never mention Virgil to you in one of your many little chats?” Roman asked, voice boiling over with barely concealed fury.

“He mentioned that the two of them dated, yes.” Logan said cooly. “However he gave a very different story than the th-two of you did.”

He sidestepped Roman, slowly inching away from him in case fists started flying. Patton had evidently taken his place curled around Virgil, who looked… incredibly upset. His eyes were unfocused and far away, and his muscles were trembling. Patton was murmuring quietly to him, encouraging him to breathe most likely, but it looked to be ineffective.

Before Logan could address this, though, Roman was blocking his vision again.

“And what exactly did he tell you?” Roman demanded. “That he made Virgil miserable? That he tormented him? Oh no wait, let me guess, he told you that Virgil did all of that to him, didn’t he?”

Logan wet his lips, hesitating. Roman scoffed.

“Unbelievable.” He said. “You believe that… that idiota mentiroso over us, your own fiancees!”

“You aren’t my fiancees!” Logan snapped suddenly.

Roman started, suddenly backing up a step. Logan ran a hand through his hair. He had had enough. Months of comments to the same effect had finally dug in their heels and he was ready to push past them. He was done playing house.

“I have told you all this countless times,” He said. “And I do not know why but none of you can seem to get it through your thick heads. So let me reiterate myself one last time. I. Do not. Remember! Anything! I don’t remember having psychology with Virgil. I do not remember his past with Damien. And as far as that is concerned I am being given two conflicting stories on that matter.

“The one thing that that stupid crash left me was the only person whom I ever considered a friend, and the people that have refused to let me be since I awoke are now trying to tell me that he is some sort of horrific person that does not even deserve the barest minimum of human treatment. And I have no idea how I am supposed to feel about that because one thing I certainly do not remember is falling in love with any of you!”

Roman’s face softened and he moved to take Logan’s hand. Logan pulled away sharply. Something hot was bubbling in his chest and for the first time in living memory he was ready to let it spill over.

“I don’t know who I am supposed to trust here,” Logan continued. “The men who claim I love them, even though I am incapable of such things, or the friend who has freely accepted that fact about me. It seems like such a hard decision, doesn’t it? Well luckily, just like everything else since I woke up, that seems to have been chosen for me.”

“Logan,” Patton called out softly. “Please. We lo-”

“Get it through your heads already!” Logan screamed. “You. Are. Nothing! To me.”

Silence commanded the room as his words echoed through it. Everyone was still, almost no one else daring to breathe as Logan panted from his outburst.

“Logos?” Another voice said quietly.

Logan turned to see Damien at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall and struggling to stay upright. Logan stiffened and marched back up the stairs, not bothering to glance behind him.

He took Damien back to the bed he’d been using and sat him down gently. Then he started packing. Damien watched, eyes wide as Logan gathered up the bare essentials and threw them into a suitcase.

“I hope you will not mind if I remain at your house for a while, Dolos.” Logan said, voice clipped. “If it is too much trouble I can stay in a hotel, but I would prefer not to have unnecessary expenses until I have a stable source of income.”

Damien nodded woodenly. “Of course not.”

“Excellent.” Logan said. “Then would you call one of those uber cars to take the two of to your residence, please?”

“You can’t drive.” Damien said, brow raising in confusion.

Logan shook his head. “Not without quite a bit of… I suppose on anyone else it would be panic, but whatever it is the doctors recommended I avoid driving for some time.”

Damien nodded and did as Logan asked. In the time it took the uber to get there Logan finished packing and got Damien in a stable enough state to be moved without too much pain.

The two of them walked back down the stairs, Damien leaning on Logan, who was dragging the suitcase. It was difficult but they reached the bottom without incident. Logan didn’t look at the three still in the room. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want them looking at him either, but that could hardly be avoided given the circumstances.

They walked out the door and Logan gently arranged Damien in the backseat of the ordered car.

He was putting his suitcase in the trunk when he heard a quiet voice from the doorway say his name. He turned, seeing Virgil’s tear stained face.

“Logan,” He said again. “Please. Please don’t. Please.”

Logan paused. All thoughts in his head had ground to a halt some time ago, leaving him on auto-pilot, but the sight of Virgil in such a state… Something stirred in his chest and almost made him throw his belongings back out and send Damien on his way.

Almost.

Logan slammed the trunk closed and looked at Virgil again.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

Then he ducked into the car and they drove away.

He didn’t see Virgil break down on the front stoop. He didn’t see Roman and Patton rush to him, tears brimming in their eyes as well. He didn’t feel the loss in their hearts as they felt that they were truly losing him for the first time. He didn’t see them cry on the couch over him for hours.

He’s not certain he would have cared if he did.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not wholly satisfied with how this chapter played out, but I don’t think it’s necessarily horrible? Basically idk how to feel about this chapter and I wrote the dang thing, so don’t judge it too harshly. But! On the bright side…
> 
> You’re about to meet Logan’s parents. 
> 
> Warnings: referenced past child abuse, referenced car crash and injuries thereof, implied PTSD.
> 
> I just want to say, I know that what Logan does here isn’t as easy as I’ve made it out to be, and I don’t really have a good excuse for why I wrote it that way, other than that I’m not sure I could do the reality any justice. However, I would like to say that I plan on recapping this in the next chapter, so if this one is too much for you, then feel free to skip it.

Life at Damien’s was, in a word, quiet. Especially when compared to the house of three very opinionated people that Logan had just come from. In… the other household, there were friendly arguments in spades, witty banter and familial ribbing were as common as the sun setting and the moon rising.

Logan hadn’t realized how used to that he’d been until he was bunking in Damien’s spare room. Damien, simply put, didn’t do much.

He worked as an online consultant on reptiles, so it wasn’t often that he had to leave the house. And the majority of his time in the house was typically spent either on his laptop or in front of the television. Which… was not the best for making good habits.

Logan had tried to tell him this once, but Damien had shut him down by pointing out that he was only here out of the goodness of Damien’s heart, so he had no right to criticize his host. Which was true enough, Logan supposed. Their friendship was not an obligation to take him in, and doing so was not something Damien had to do, but he did it anyways and for that, Logan was grateful.

Logan tried to make up for it- no- to repay him for the usage of space by cleaning the house and cooking meals, but Damien never seemed quite satisfied, no matter how often he said he enjoyed having Logan there.

It was… quite different than the previous house he’d been in.

Of course, the one’s most annoyed by the change in location were Logan’s parents. Having originally planned on staying in a guest bedroom, they were rather irked to find that Logan was now in a house rather without one. His father notoriously hated hotels, but they eventually agreed it was the most logical decision for their visit, even if it was only for a quick dinner together.

At least they’d agreed to having it in a restaurant. Logan wasn’t sure he could clean Damien’s house enough to match their exacting standards. And his mother always had displayed a liking for italian cuisine so…

Olive Garden it was.

Logan was just on the brink of tapping his leg to remove the aimless energy in his chest when he finally saw them approaching the table. He stood to greet them and they traded handshakes before his parents removed their damp coats and sat down.

“It’s raining rather hard,” His mother, Victoria, said stiffly. “Had I known that it would be raining I might have brought a heavier jacket. Or perhaps an umbrella.”

Logan nodded. “Yes, I suppose that was my own fault for neglecting to inform you. The weather in this area can be somewhat temperamental. If you would like to visit on another occasion it might be best to bring a variety of clothing, as it can change at a moment’s notice.”

His father, Everest, regarded him. “I do not see us having a need to visit again in the near future. Unless you are planning to get in another motor accident.”

The sounds of grinding metal and shattering glass briefly filled Logan’s ears and he repressed a shudder.

“No.” He said firmly. “That is not something I am planning on.”

Everest seemed to find that satisfactory and the conversation quieted. They ordered their food before his mother attempted to restart it.

“So,” She said. “Apart from the obvious memory loss, do you have any remaining lasting injures?”

Logan shook his head. “There is a slight tremor in my hands whenever I attempt to drive, and there is some light scarring, but aside from the memory loss I have acquired no major injuries.”

His mother nodded her satisfaction and sipped at her drink. The table fell silent again and Logan found himself thinking of the dinner at Emile’s house. Of the chatter and home cooked meal, the chaos that came with putting Roman in a room with three children as well as having the Picani siblings together in any capacity. The warm food and warmer hugs, the seemingly endless waterfall of conversation that spilled from everyone’s lips… He almost missed-

Logan shook his head forcefully, a vain attempt to expel his own thoughts.

“So,” He said finally. “How are your law practices going?”

“Your mother’s is going fine.” His father said, voice growing clipped. “However my firm is undergoing financial trouble.”

“Oh?” Logan asked. “Why is that?”

“We had the same case,” His mother explained. “Your father was the plaintiff and I was the defendant. It was a rather public case, and after he lost, no one wanted to use his firm any longer. It was, for lack of less colorful phrase, a bloodbath. It tore our marriage apart.”

Logan blinked. “You… the two of you are no longer wed?”

“We are not.” his father said. “It became a conflict of interest, so we agreed to let it come to a close.”

“Close your mouth, Logan. You look like a simpleton.” His mother instructed.

Logan’s mouth snapped shut of its own accord. His jaw worked for a moment as he tried to absorb this new information. The matter-of-fact way it was presented wasn’t really helping the process. It was so… cold. So detached from any emotions usually present in a divorce. Or in a marriage, come to think of it. Not at all like…

Not like what he had been led to believe should be present. Nothing more, nothing less. It was surprising, but so was their entire union to begin with.

“I am… sorry to hear that.” He said finally. “Have you separated entirely?”

“Yes.” His mother said. “Your father kept the house in Destin, and I have permanently relocated to the vacation house in Clearwater.”

Logan nodded absently. “Well, I suppose that is for the best, then.”

“Quite,” His father said. “Our marriage was one of convenience in any case. Now that it is over we are both free to continue our jobs unimpeded.”

“Yes.” Logan said quietly. “I suppose you will.”

Their food arrived while Logan’s brain was still digesting the information. At which point his mother deemed fit to try and communicate again.

“I must say we are both very proud of you, Logan.” She said.

His head raised and he cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

“When we got the wedding invitation a few years ago your father and I were worried you were becoming,” She shuddered. “Sentimental. Emotional in the worst of ways. We never fully approved of that… lifestyle, you know. It was inappropriate for someone such as yourself. It is a mark of your intellect that you have finally come to your senses and left those unseemly men in the past and are getting your life back in order.”

Logan frowned, the implications not sitting well with him. He opened his mouth to comment but his father interrupted him.

“Yes, and speaking of, there is a matter we wish to discuss with you,” Everest said. “Seeing as you no longer remember your previous college education you will likely have to repeat it in order to reobtain your teaching license or otherwise further your career. Your mother and I have discussed it, and decided it would be for the best if you moved in with one of us until your secondary education is finished in order to prevent you from losing focus again.”

Logan’s tongue felt wooden in his mouth. Losing focus? He hadn’t lost focus the first time around. Whether he’d been manipulated or not, he had fallen in love. According to every source he’d ever seen that involved not the loss of focus, but the readjustment of it.

“I did… finish college on my own.” Logan said. “I may have… gotten distracted, but I did finish it, and in record time as well. Why would moving back in with either of you be a necessity?”

“To prevent any further distractions,” His father said. “We would not want another slip up to get in the way of your career.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “It… They were not a mere distraction, Father. Distracting, rambunctious, and annoying almost definitely. But they were and are far more to me than a mere distraction.”

“Are?” His mother questioned critically.

Logan’s face warmed. “I misspoke. I apologize. However the fact remains that I trust my own judgement enough to know that I would not get married because I was distracted.”

“Yet you left them,” Everest said. “If they were more than a distraction, why would you leave?”

“I-” Logan paused.

Why did he leave? No, that wasn’t the right question. He had left out of… frustration. Out of weariness from being measured up to a past self. To someone he didn’t even remember. Out of… out of wanting to feel, but not at the same rate he was being told to.

And he did want to feel, he realized that now with a startling clarity. He wanted to soothe Patton when he saw a spider. He wanted Virgil to hold him after a nightmare. He wanted Roman to lift him into the air and pepper his face with kisses.

He had been disoriented and frustrated when living with them, but looking back he’d been… happier.

“No.” He said, finally.

“No what?” His father asked.

“No I won’t go live with you,” He said. “Either of you. I- I made a judgement of error and now I think I need to go about correcting it to the best of my abilities.”

His mother glared at him icily. “You cannot possibly be serious, Logan. Damien has told us what happened and you have no reason to return to that wretched household.”

“Perhaps not right away, no, but I feel-”

His father threw down his fork harshly and fixed Logan with a glare. “You cannot possibly be suggesting that you are feeling. We raised you to be above such judgmental errors.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed further. “Perhaps, but there is such a time when such errors become the only thing that makes a life worth it. I have learned a lot since I was under your care, Father, and I think I have grown beyond your so-called wisdom.”

His mother sniffed. “Nothing they are capable of teaching you is long-lasting. They are nothing but a gaggle of idiots pretending to be more intelligent than they are.”

“I did not raise a man who gets so swept up in his own hormones that he throws everything away on humanity’s collective delusion.” Everest said. “Love is nothing but a fairytale designed to keep out the cold, something I thought that we had raised you to know.”

“You’re wrong.” Logan said. “And always have been wrong. Love is… I cannot begin to comprehend it. It is new and bold and nothing I have ever felt before, certainly not from the two of you.

“Maybe I am wrong,” He continued, both he and his father standing to face each other. “Maybe Virgil was toxic for Damien and maybe the three of them have done nothing but manipulate me and maybe everything I am saying is based on falsehoods. But I have seen the way Damien treats those around them, with little more than contempt and a haughty nature. And I have seen the way the two of you treat each other, both in your loveless marriage and in your loveless lives. You are so quick to dismiss it as weakness and for the first time I see you both for what you are. You are not robots, Everest. You are two misguided people who have decided you are better than emotions and are all the worst for it.

“I would rather be with people who pretend to love me than with two who have trained me to know that they never could.”

A crack rang through the restaurant. Logan stepped back, cradling his suddenly sore cheek. Everest rubbed his own wrist from the recoil and Victoria was still in her chair, face a picture of mild shock.

Logan glared at them both. It was not the first time he’d been hit, but he was going to do everything within his power to make it the last.

Logan grabbed his jacket and left without a further word, ignoring the shouts after him. He rushed out the door and picked a random direction. And started walking.

The rain was pounding on him from all directions, but the storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside of him. His insides were a whirlwind of emotions and disjointed thoughts, none of which he could begin to comprehend or deal with.

So he kept walking, aimless and without any direction or destination.

Going back to the restaurant was out of the question. No matter what his parents tried now he would rather leave that bridge burned.

Damien was also a non-option. Looking at it logically, the entire mess was one word against three, and the one had proven time again to be untrustworthy. The only reason he had believed Damien in the first place was because of a friendship that was growing more and more tenuous the longer he was used for all the household chores. They weren’t nothing, per say, but Logan wasn’t sure they had ever really been friends.

That only left one remaining option.

Logan pulled out his phone, forever grateful for his waterproof case. And called Roman.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it folks! The technical-almost-end of Love you Lo-Lo. I’ve been writing this thing since March 17, 2018 and I won’t lie, wrapping it up is a labor of love that I am sad to do. 
> 
> I do have another chapter and/or a small epilogue to show you guys before it officially ends, as well as some one-shots that don’t really fit in the main story. Will Lyll ever officially die? Probably, eventually. But if I get my way, and enough of your help and support that won’t be anytime soon. 
> 
> I’ll leave the goodbye’s for the epilogue, but just know that if you’ve read this story at all: I love you. <3
> 
> Warnings: Implied abusive parents, Deceit mention kinda, references to memory loss, Logan risks hypothermia.

Five calls to Roman, and three to Virgil with no answer. Logan hated to admit it, but he was desperate. He understood the silence, he really did, but he was soaked through the skin and had no idea where he was or where he was going.

Plus he missed them. He missed them so terribly. He ached for the lumpy sofa and the crackle of the television, for Patton gently pressing a mug of a hot beverage into his hand. He wanted to hear their voices again, it didn’t matter if they were yelling at him. He just wanted to hear them.

Finally, he tried Patton, who Logan was convinced was some kind of angel based solely on the fact that he picked up.

“Hello?” Patton asked, voice colder than it had any right to be.

No, that wasn’t true. Patton had every right to treat him coldly after the way he had conducted himself. He just hated being on the receiving end of it because it… it felt awful.

“Patton,” Logan said, voice cracking halfway through the word. “I- I seem to find myself in a predicament.”

He heard Patton sigh on the other end, but when he spoke there was a small amount of worry in his words.

“Logan, we aren’t tissues,” He said. “You can’t just use us and throw us away, only to use us later. We aren’t here just to pick you up.”

Logan almost laughed at the small sound of someone in the background calling Patton’s analogy gross.

“Tr-trust me, Patton,” He said shakily. “I have no intention of using any of you in any capacity you would not agree with. I just… Are you with the Roman and Virgil right now?”

Patton confirmed that they were all three in the living room, enjoying their favorite rainy day movie. Logan almost cried, but managed to wrestle himself into enough order to ask to be one speaker.

He didn’t want to repeat himself or have his words paraphrased. They all needed to hear it.

“I- Words cannot describe adequately how sorry I am.” He said. “I was given the world’s most wonderful gift and I treated it as if it was garbage. Not one of you deserved that. I… I would not blame you if you turned me away right now. But I do not think I have many other options. If you say no, which you have more than the right to do, I will return to Da- his abode, pack my things and attempt to find an apartment. But I could not go forward without all of you knowing that I am truly and deeply sorry. And that… if you will allow me… I think I’m ready to actually try.”

There was a long silence after that. Logan stood on the sidewalk, stock still and waiting for the verdict. The rain fell around him, nature not bothering to hold its breath for what could be the most important moment since Logan had woken up.

“Where are you?” Virgil’s voice asked. “It almost sounds like you’re outside from all the noise.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “Yes well… in my rush to get away from Victoria and Everest it would seem I let my emotions get away with me. I sort of, just, ran out, and since I remain unable to drive-”

“Good gravy!” Patton exclaimed. “Logan Articuno, do you mean to tell me you’re outside in this weather?”

“Um, yes?”

“That settles it, we’re coming to get you.” Patton said with an air of finality. “Do you know- no. Never mind that. Turn on your location on your phone and we’ll be there soon.”

“And Logan?” Roman interjected.

“…yes?” He asked hesitantly.

“We’ll work out the rest once you’re safe but… it isn’t unforgivable.”

Logan’s chest had been full of howling winds all evening, but for the first time he felt a portion of them dissipate. The pressure eased and he almost found himself smiling.

“Okay.”

***

They found him sitting on a sidewalk ten miles from the Olive Garden in question.

Patton was distraught to find him in nothing but a trench coat (“Made of wool! For heaven’s sake, Lo!”), and Virgil wasted no time in taking the umbrella so that Logan could be properly wrapped in blankets. Roman hastily scooped him into his arms and set him gently in the car’s backseat.

It wasn’t until the warmth hit logan’s face that he realized how cold and tired he had been. He fought to stay awake, eyelids only growing heavier from the effort.

A cool hand stroked his cheek and he sleepily looked in the direction it came from. Virgil was smiling at him softly from one seat over. He stroked Logan’s cheek again, tenderly and soft and calming.

“Go ahead and sleep, Lo.” He whispered. “We’ll be here when you wake up. We aren’t going anywhere.”

Logan gave him a small smile and let his eyelids flutter shut. He drifted to sleep with Virgil still gently petting him, Patton ranting about the dangers of hypothermia, and Roman gently trying to placate him with sweet nothings.

His last conscious thought was of feeling utterly content. And being fine with that.

***

He woke up with a large sneeze. It made Virgil jolt underneath him and Roman almost fall off the couch entirely. Luckily Patton caught him before his head hit the floor.

Virgil chuckled. “Dang, give a guy some warning next time, maybe?”

“Apologies,” Logan said with a sniff. “I’m afraid I saw it coming as much as the three of you did.”

“Maybe less.” Patton said. “You’ve been out a couple hours now and didn’t start sniffling til thirty minutes in. How you feeling?”

Logan shrugged. “Tired, I suppose. Regretful of multiple recent decisions, the least of which is walking so long in the rain.”

“I’m not surprised,” Roman said quietly. “Do you… feel up to talking about it? What happened I mean?”

Logan shrugged half-heartedly. “I met with my parents. We had dinner, and they were entirely unchanged from when I last saw them- well, beyond the fact that they’ve divorced. That part did blindside me quite a bit.”

The other three gave him sympathetic looks and Virgil slowly rubbed circles into his back.

“I think… I think I might have let them continue,” He said, voice quite a bit quieter than he intended it to be. “But… I got the feeling that I had already… I don’t know. I have been getting the strangest thoughts over the past few months. Little things that make me think I’ve done all of this before. I know it sounds silly, but I… when I was talking with my parents again, I felt as if I had already done it once before, and not nearly as alone as I truly was.”

“You did, once.” Patton said. “We were all meeting them and they called Roman something awful, so you got mad at them.”

Logan nodded absently. “My theory is that the deja vu I have been experiencing is directly linked to the memories I have lost. I still don’t remember anything, but I find myself nostalgic for them anyway.”

Logan sneezed again and everyone on the couch shifted. He took the opportunity to straighten himself, looking at Virgil head on.

“One thing, before we go any further,” He said. “Words cannot express how truly and deeply sorry I am for the manner in which I left. I may have had my reasons for it, but they were an explanation, and not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

Virgil sighed deeply and opened his arms with a crooked smile. Logan fell back into them and Virgil tucked him into a warm embrace.

“I forgive you Lo,” He said softly.

“Honestly, I hope you can extend forgiveness towards us.” Roman said. “It wasn’t until you yelled at us that we realized how everything must have been making you feel. We were so focused on the Logan we lost that we forgot to care for the Logan in front of us properly.”

Logan laughed breathily. “We really are a mess, aren’t we. Of course I forgive the three of you, I would not have come back if I didn’t.”

“Good,” Roman said quietly.

They all sat quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying each others presence. Until Logan let out another sneeze that could probably wake the dead. After recovering from his giggles, Patton went to get the cough medicine.

“So,” Virgil said when he got back. “What do you want to do now Logan?”

Logan took the medicine and burrowed further into Virgil. “This.”

Virgil snorted and Logan heard Roman and Patton laugh too.

“No, I mean, where do we go from here?” Virgil asked. “Do you want to keep living here or…”

Logan shifted slightly. “I… I do not know, honestly. I would like to be here, it …feels right, I suppose. But that’s another thing. I am so unused to the idea of having feelings that I do not know what to do with them. Do I let myself give in to them or do I focus on what I need to? I feel so lost… And I know what you all want from me, or at least I think I do, but I do not feel ready for anything of that sort of nature. I feel as if I have known you for years and for two days at the same time and I just-”

His voice choked out and Patton leaned over to wipe away the tears falling down his face.

“It’s okay, Logan,” He said softly. “I know that the first time around we sort of rushed you, and that was wrong. Let’s think of this as a fresh start, okay? We can go at whatever pace you want.”

“Whatever pace you need.” Roman corrected.

Logan nodded shakily. “Than- Thank you. I think… I think I want to stay here. But not as a romantic partner. Possibly in the future, but not yet. Could we, perhaps, just agree on a friendship for now?”

Virgil hugged him just a little bit closer. “Of course we can. Friends sounds amazing.”

“Good,” Logan nestled further into Virgil’s stomach and let out a sigh. “I think I’m going to go back to sleep now.”

The other three chuckled, and for the first time Logan appreciated how low and deep Virgil’s voice could be. Especially when Logan’s ear was pressed against its source.

Patton chuckled. “You do that, Lo-lo. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

And for the first time, Logan didn’t mind the nickname.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Head injury scare, physical abuse of a romantic partner, fistfights, avoiding feelings, mutual pining, and loads of flashbacks.

It was almost innocuous how it ended. Or rather, started. Agian. 

It was as simple as Virgil and Roman trying to cook dinner on thier own, forcing Patton to take a much needed break. He and Logan were to delegate from the table, which wound up meaning “sit down and watch.” 

Logan was content, though. Watching the two of them bicker and turning to watch Patton watch them felt like coming home all over again. He sighed, the words slipping out of their own accord. 

“I love you all.”

The kitchen veritably froze, and Logan turned beet red as the words reached his own ears. 

“I mean- um,” He cleared his throat. “I had something much better planned, but I suppose this works. I am… ready. If all of you are.”

“Ready for what, exactly?” Virgil asked carefully.

Logan’s face grew impossibly warmer. “To… you know.”

“Not unless you tell us, Lo-lo.” Patton said gently.

Logan coughed awkwardly. “To… try a romantic relationship with the three of you. It’s been five months since the… indecent, and I think I’m- I think I want it.”

Patton squealed and the three of them enveloped him in a hug. He sighed, asking them not to make a fuss and shooed them back to their prior activities, more than a little flustered at the attention, but pleased with the overall results.

Patton went back to quietly sipping his hot chocolate, Roman went back to stirring the batter, and Virgil went back to washing the dish they needed that a certain someone had soiled the night before. (Not that Logan was pointing fingers, but in hindsight, a pancake and pillow fight was not one of Roman’s better ideas.)

Roman and Virgil even returned to their bickering, and all was comfortable. So comfortable in fact that only Logan noticed the dish slipping out of Virgil’s hands. 

Logan was not particularly fast, but he managed to catch it just before it hit the floor. He rose to put it in the sink and felt his foot skid. 

He slipped on a stray patch of water. 

The dish in his hands went up, up, up… and he fell down, down, down. Something hard hit the back of his head and his neck cracked in protest. He had just enough time to think that he wouldn’t see the plate fall before a bright white light encompassed his vision.

And then it went black.

He heard something before he saw anything. The ugly sound of flesh hitting flesh fitting lockers came to him much sooner than his vision did. Luckily his sight returned as he rounded the corner, only to be met with a gruesome scene.

Damien hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy burying his fist into his boyfriend’s cheek. Logan had hardly spoken two words to the man beyond passing glances, He didn’t even know his name, really. Knew it started with a v, Vignette, maybe? Probably not, but there were two things he knew instinctively.

One: there was slim to no chance this was the first time Damien had physically accosted his boyfriend. Damien had a way with words and anyone who thought they were clever enough to navigate through that maze was more of an idiot than Logan was.

Two: there was no chance in hell Logan was letting it happen again.

He strode forwards, no clear plan in mind except to get Damien to stop and get V-something to safety. He scarcely even noticed when the angry fists of his so-called “best friend” turned in his direction.

Damien’s ex wouldn’t leave him alone.

Well okay, that wasn’t entirely accurate. He had suggested Virgil not be left alone on campus, for fear of Damien, and Virgil had clung to him like a lifeline.

Luckily enough, it was not a lifeline Logan was keen on severing. Virgil was quiet and thoughtful, bordering on pensive at times but he had a wit like a whip. Logan wished there was an algorithm to calculate how many times Virgil had surprised him in their debates.

Not the least of which was whenever his penchant for saying the strangest things shone through.

“Thank you, by the way.” Virgil said one day from his spot on Logan’s couch.

Logan barely glanced up from his book. “Whatever for?”

Virgil chewed on the end of his hoodie sleeve. “For not, like, treating me bad. Okay not bad, but like… for not treating me like I’m gonna break or like I’m already broken. That crap’s the worst and… I dunno. You didn’t do it. Mean’s a lot.”

Logan looked up from his mystery novel and gave Virgil an inquisitive look.

“Why on earth would I treat you like you are broken?” He asked. “You are one of, if not the strongest person I know.”

Virgil blushed. “Um… thanks?”

“You remind me of a sword I read of in a book once.” Logan continued, more than a little pleased he could make Virgil blush. “‘It only takes in that which makes it stronger.’ Well, you went through hellfire and made it out the other end, so I would say you are definitely stronger for it. Not that any of that makes what you went through better but… I suppose what I am attempting to convey is that I have never once thought of you as something that could be broken. Much less something that already is.”

Virgil was currently attempting to bury himself alive via hoodie, and what could be seen of his skin was bright red.

“Thanks.” He said, voice a few octaves higher than normal.

Logan smiled and returned to his book. After a few minutes Virgil spoke again, this time on a vastly different topic.

“I think I’m ready to try and see that guy you found. The therapist? I think… I think I’m ready.”

Emile Picani was… an interesting person. If Logan had to pick one of the variety of slang words that he definitely knew thank you very much Virgil, Logan would qualify him as “a character.” He was intelligent enough that he could keep up with Logan, at least, even if he did make a cartoon reference every other sentence and a pun every third.

Virgil liked him well enough, though, and the two progressed into a strange sort of friendship. So Logan couldn’t really complain.

Which was the only reason he wasn’t vocalizing his complaints about being dragged to the Picani Family Christmas Party that Virgil had been invited to. Virgil had been nervous about going when he only knew one person and after stating his own distaste for such things, Logan had offered to join him, if only so neither of them had to be alone.

However, once they got there Emile had dragged Virgil off to look at something, and the former was bouncing enough that Logan guessed he was on some form of sugar rush.

Logan had been left standing awkwardly in the doorway when a giggle sounded behind him.

“You’re under the mistletoe!” The giggler pointed out, voice bubbly and genuine. “Does that mean you want a kiss or that you don’t know where else to go?”

After explaining his situation to the surprisingly tall man behind him, the man in question introduced himself as Patton Picani, Emile’s younger brother by seven minutes.

“There! Now you know three people here!” He declared happily.

After the Christmas Party of Varying Success, Patton had “adopted” both Logan and Virgil as his friends. It turned out that he went to their college as well, and was taking classes in both baking and childcare.

“I want to be a dad someday,” Patton had explained. “I’m not sure why but I feel like I was born to be around kids! That’s why I work part-time as a nanny.”

“Is that also why you tell so many dad jokes?” Virgil asked.

“If I didn’t, well… Dad just wouldn’t be right!”

Logan had groaned at the horrible joke, but admired that Patton seemed to know what he wanted years down the road.

There was some sort of commotion down the hall. It was drawing a crowd, and a loud one at that. So being the naturally cautious person he was, Patton grabbed Logan and Virgil by the wrists and dragged them into the thick of it to see what was going on.

The first thing Logan registered was that Damien Scum-of-the-earth Faus was on the ground, yellow gloves stained with red and turning a grisly satisfying shade of orange. The second thing he registered was the rippling biceps brachii of the man who had put Damien on the ground as he reared it back for another blow.

Logan was decently sure he’d swallowed his own tongue, but found it long enough to ask a nearby student what happened.

Evidently “Roman” had caught wind of Damien’s plans to ruin the school play in a twisted attempt to win back his ex. Logan’s arm wrapped protectively around Virgil before he even noticed it moving.

He made a mental note to thank this “Roman” the next time they were to see each other. He’d never noticed him before but he didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of those extensor carpi ulnaris now.

Logan was a little confused at how Roman had suddenly appeared at their usual lunch spot, but Roman himself seemed even more confused. No one protested to him being added to their little group, though, least of all Roman himself.

It wasn’t until Virgil’s birthday party (a small affair with only them, Emile, and Virgil’s brothers) that Roman voiced any of his confusion. Logan nearly burst into laughter after hearing that Patton had evidently assaulted him with a hug and little to no explanation before plopping him at their cafe table.

Logan explained and a switch seemed to flick in Roman’s head.

“Do you think… I- I’m not a hero, Logan.” Roman said, head ducked so far Logan could only see the top of his head. “I beat someone up for selfish reasons I didn’t even care about why Damien was going to ruin the play, just that he was. It was stupid and I-”

“Would you change anything if you knew?” Logan interrupted.

“Wha-What?”

“If you had known would that change anything?” Logan repeated. “If you had known Virgil or the history behind Damien’s reasoning, would that have changed anything you did?”

“Well yeah,” Roman practically growled. “I would have beat him up twice as hard.”

“Then you are all the hero we need.” Logan said simply. “I do not make friendships lightly, Roman, certainly not with stupid and selfish people. If you think you fall into either of those categories please reevaluate yourself. Unless you think my judgment is unsound.”

Roman looked up at him with a strange light in his eyes.

“No.” He said after a moment. “I think if someone as smart as you sees me as an equal I must be doing something right.”

Logan hated this.

He didn’t know what “this” was but he hated it.

He couldn’t be around any of his friends without having heart palpitations, couldn’t be complemented by one of them without contracting a temporary fever, and couldn’t think of one of them without a strange heartburn in his chest.

He didn’t remember making the decision to avoid them, to bury himself in his work rather than experience any of the symptoms he seemed to be tormented by. He missed them, but it felt… necessary in order to sort himself out properly.

Logan felt ashamed to admit that he didn’t think about how it would affect them until he was sat down for a “fam-ily meeting.”

They wanted answers. Logan couldn’t blame them.

They asked him why he was avoiding them. Logan denied it, it wasn’t them he was avoiding.

It turned sour quickly. Roman’s temper got the better of him and he started accusing Logan of avoiding more than them. Of avoiding his feelings, of not having them in the first place, of a million other things that hit too close to home and Logan deserved.

It wasn’t until Patton hushed Roman that he even felt the liquid trickling down his face. So this was crying, huh? He hated it, no matter how much it made Roman deflate and apologize.

He rushed to explain that there was nothing to apologize for. That he was an emotionless robot with no excuse to avoid them all the way he had been.

“You are not!” Someone protested, Patton probably, but he was having trouble distinguishing.

“Logan Articuno you are the furthest thing from emotionless I’ve ever met.” Virgil(?) said. “Anyone you said that to you should die in a raging garbage fire.”

There was a high pitched whining sound and a mutter of “agreed.”

“With one exception, Roman.” Probably-Patton said. “Because you said it when you were upset and that doesn’t make it right, but we know you didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t?” Logan said, hiccuping.

A gentle hand cupped his face and his eyes were lifted to look into Roman’s. His eyes were ernest and vibrant and goodness. Had they always been that shade of sparkling green?

“I can promise you this, Logan.” Roman said softly. “I would never, ever say something to hurt you on purpose. Especially not something as baseless and incorrect as that. You are one of the most emotional and passionate men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Of knowing. Of…”

Logan saw a word tremble on the very edges of Roman’s lips. Logan knew what it was, or liked to think he did. He half-wanted Roman to say it, but was scared of what would happen when he did. He scrubbed at his eyes, forcibly breaking the connection between them and Roman’s.

“I’m sorry. I don’t- I usually don’t- I’ve never… I’m new at this.” He finished lamely. “Feelings are not my strong suit, however not-lacking in them I may be. I- I don’t like them. Not in the open air. If I can’t hide them then I hide myself.”

He took a shuddering breath before continuing. “That’s… that’s why I have been around less. I was not avoiding you all purposefully so much as I was avoiding… myself, so to speak. I… I discovered something that I was feeling and chose to run. Because, you see, I am the epitome of mature and rational thought.”

He laughed bitterly. Shakily. “I’m sorry.”

A quiet followed, but it wasn’t tense. Logan’s words lingered in the air, hanging ready like a fruit waiting to be plucked.

“I think I know what you mean.” Patton said, metaphorically reaching out to pluck the fruit-words from the air-tree. “I’ve been having ‘feelings’ too, but I was worried no one else had the so I left it alone.”

“Same.” Virgil voiced, taking his share of the fruit-words from Patton.

Logan needed a better metaphor.

“Me as well.” Roman said hesitantly. “I… I do not know when exactly it happened but… well I certainly wasn’t planning on telling you all like this.”

Virgil snickered. “What would you have planned, Princey? Roses and candles?”

“Anything but this!” Roman said, drawing away from Logan to gesture at him. “I made one of my crushes cry, this is not how confessions are supposed to go!”

“Con-Confession?” Logan stammered.

No way. No way he was that lucky.

“Crushes?” Virgil fearfully asked.

“One of?” Patton asked, voice laced with delicate hope.

Roman froze, face turning as red as the scarf he loved wearing. “Well I- That is to say- Only if you all- I mean I would never pressure you but- Well I- If you all want to?”

“Yes.” Patton said immediately. “Goodness above, yes. I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to not-say it but yes, yes please.”

Virgil seemed several shades paler than usual. “I… um… yo- yeah. Yeah, same.”

They all turned to look at Logan. His tounge tied in a knot and he felt more prickling at the backs of his eyes. He looked away from them, down at his clenched hands, suddenly overcome with emotions that he had no idea what to do with.

“Logan,” A soft voice said. “You don’t have to say yes but… would you be in a relationship with us?”

That did it.

Logan’s floodgates burst open and he suddenly found himself wrapped in Roman’s arms. Soon followed by Patton’s. Then Virgil’s. They all stayed there, piled on the couch at awkward angles, holding Logan while he cried for the first time in what must have been years. And there was nothing he would have traded it for.

“Logan, honey I don’t mean to pressure you,” Patton said. “But we do need some kind of answer hun.”

Yes. Yes. A million times, yes.

“Logan?”

What?

“Logan!”

He was right here, Virgil, no need to shout.

“Logan, please! Wake up!”

Logan jolted, his eyes opening as he sat bolt upright. He regretted both actions immediately as his head swam and bright lights poured into his eyes. He shut them forcefully and lay back down with a groan.

He heard someone breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank heaven. Are you feeling okay?”

“Patton, he hit his head on the counter!” Someone else said. “I’d be surprised if he didn’t have a concussion! You don’t have a concussion, do you? Quick, how do you tell if someone has a concussion?”

“Darling, please!” Another voice chimed in. “If he has a concussion the last thing he needs is you running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off!”

“Well excuse me, Sir Sing-a-long! I’m just trying not to have panic attack here! If running around like a decapitated chicken is the only way to do that then so help me I’m gonna run!”

“As charming as your banter always is, the yelling is not conducive to the headache I am getting.” Logan said.

“Oh, sorry.”

Logan cracked open an eye and allowed himself to smile at Virgil.

“You know, for once, I am not sure I entirely mind, dear.” He said carefully.

They collectively gasped and Logan let his eye slid back closed as the hint of a smile graced his lips.

“Does… does that mean you remember?” Patton asked carefully.

Logan frowned. “Bits and pieces. Not enough to say I am fully healed, but enough to get by on.”

“What, uh… what sort of bits?”

Logan groped for someone’s hand and felt Roman’s fingers interlock with his own. He let them linger for a moment before yanking Roman on top of him with a yelp. His head groaned in protest but he elected to ignore it in favor of threading his fingers through Roman’s hair.

“These sort of bits.” He said softly. “The little ones. A few of the larger ones as well. Meeting you all, befriending you all…”

Logan opened his eyes to give Roman an amused smile. “You giving Damien a beating that was a long time coming.”

Virgil snickered. “I remember that. It was great.”

“I don’t remember everything.” Logan continued. “But I think I remember enough to count. Its… It’s as if I have had all the pieces to a puzzle, but that I am finally allowed to look at the box.”

He heard Patton sniffle through what he hoped were happy tears.

“I just… “ He sniffed. “I don’t really understand… how?”

“Cognitive recalibration.” Logan answered.

There was a beat of silence.

“What?”

“I got hit really hard on the head.” Logan explained.

Virgil laughed and for the first time in months Logan allowed himself to enjoy it. To enjoy The musical sound of Virgil laughing, the feeling of Roman’s probably-overwashed hair in his hands, the faint smell of Patton’s cologne/perfume hell-mix. The feeling of just… feeling.

The problem wasn’t magically solved. Far from it.

But for the first time since he’d woken up, Logan was happy to let the moment last. They would make new, more perfect memories. 

After all, he was their Lo-Lo. And he loved them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overall: This story has taken me half a year to write, and it was my pleasure to do so. Since I wrote this I officially tossed my hat into the Thomas Sanders fandom, made friends, and found a group that enjoyed reading what I write as much as I enjoy writing it. If you have read this story in any capacity, I want to thank you so much. Without your encouragement I would have left it in the dust long ago, and without writing it, I don’t know that I would be in nearly the same place that I am. When I say that I love you guys, I’m not joking. I truly and deeply mean it. I love each and every one of you. 💕❤💖💜💗💕


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t think there’s much here I can say that I haven’t already, so I’ll clear the way and let you all enjoy this moment. You’ve certainly earned it. 
> 
> Warnings: Food mention, but otherwise free of all but the floofiest of fluff.

Logan stood and tapped his fork to the champagne glass, effectively gaining the crowd’s attention. He paused for a moment, basking in the fairy lights Roman had insisted on.

“Well,” he said. “This certainly took awhile.”

The crowd laughed. He glanced next to him with a smile, making sure the joke had landed with the actual intended audience. His smile grew as he watched Patton bury his giggles into Roman’s chest, Roman himself grinning. He reached out to his other side and felt Virgil grasp his hand. It was warm and comforting.

Logan squeezed and held on, turning back to the crowd.

“I was only half joking.” he continued. “It has taken us a great many years to get here, more than a few of which can be attributed to me.”

His lips twitched as the crowd tittered.

“Since the long wait is primarily my fault, I thought it best if I was the one to give a speech tonight. I know it isn’t traditional, but then, we’ve never been a traditional relationship.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m not one for flowery words, though. So you can be certain that everything I say is an unfiltered truth. These men have stuck by me through arguably the roughest portion of my life. Not only were they a force of strength in this period they also did something no one else has ever done.

“They waited for me. They waited for me to wake up, and once that was over they waited until I was ready to start again. They never pushed more than I needed and stayed by my side until I had recovered. I-”

He choked and felt Virgil squeeze his hand. He turned to the other man and drank in his appearance.

He wanted to remember how Virgil looked in that tux forever. It had taken him forever to wrangle the man into it and he didn’t regret an instant of it. It was a deep purple, bordering on black without actually being so. The lights glistened in the hair he’d dyed to match it and there was a bit of cake in the corner of his mouth. His eyes were shining, for once free of his trademark bags.

He was, in short, perfect looking.

Logan felt his eyes crinkle as tears formed in them.

“I wouldn’t trade them for all the world.” He said. “I don’t care how many times I fall, they will always be there to lift me back on my feet. It will never matter how much I forget because they will always be around to remind me. And I would do the same twice over for them.”

He looked back to Roman and Patton, both of whom also had tears glittering in their eyes. Roman was dabbing at them furiously to avoid his makeup running onto his wine-colored suit, or worse, Patton’s cream colored dress. Patton was just letting them fall down his face, hindered only by his mile-wide grin.

Logan’s heart swelled.

They were perfect, too.

“I love them,” Logan continued. “And no matter what I forget I know for a fact that that is one thing which will never change. I will love them as long as I can, longer even. And I can only hope that they will put up with me as long.”

He laughed and scrubbed at his eyes. “Well I suppose I don’t have to hope. If the waiting four years wasn’t enough then surely one would think this would be! ” The crowd laughed as he gestured to the decorations, then at the altar behind them. “Thank you all for RSVPing, by the way. I know the wait list was a killer.”

His smile softened as he grabbed Virgil’s had again.

“But even if the wedding isn’t enough reassurance, I know they will be there every day to remind me. And all the words in the world could not express how much that means to me. All the books in the universe could not compare to the worth of that knowledge.”

He looked out at the crowd of people and grinned. He held his glass to the sky.

“Here is to the future! To all of us here and those of us who are now, officially Misters Sanders!”

Everyone clapped and Logan was suddenly pummeled with large masses on either side. He stumbled, but ultimately gave himself over to the peppering of kisses all over him as his new husbands thanked him for the speech.

Logan didn’t mind really. He was happy. He loved them. And nothing could feel more perfect than that.

He felt Patton nuzzle into his neck gently.

“Love you, Lo-Lo.” He whispered.

“I love you too.” He answered. “So, so much.”


End file.
